Ch. 12
Bed bound, bound and bedded. The sordid story continues!
I hated being bed bound, and, against doctor's orders, was soon actively hobbling around the room, despite the pain and discomfort of it. My arm would be on the mend for months. I was lucky though, that they were able to fix it. It had apparently been a close call. I'd managed to crack the bone of my shin kicking the monster in the dark. Fortunately, that wasn't as bad as it could have been, and would be mended before long. I considered it a lesson learned.
As for my jaw, I was grateful to be unconscious when they reset it, and stitched up the laceration. I could feel it stretch when I talked. Of all the hurts I felt, that one was without a doubt the worst. They were surprised it wasn't broken. I was profoundly grateful it hadn't been. Even so, the pain was beyond description, the medicine, as good as it was, only dulled it.
I shared a personal laugh with Tempest, who understood perhaps better than anyone that we had actually managed to reverse roles. I was the stubborn mule who wanted to get on with it. She was the patient caretaker who knew better. I didn't fight her, when she insisted on doing things for me. Fetching food and drink and changing the channel. Even fluffing my pillows and helping me change how I was laying when it got uncomfortable.
Claire and I kept training. She wandered, and practiced showing me what she saw. What she heard. I would try to give her directions, questions, ideas. Despite how difficult it was to fight through the haze of pain medicines and fatigue, we were getting faster at it, clearer. More concise. Less having to speak and more simply being understood. I appreciated the distraction, and the sense of having actually done something. She began teaching me, in slow steps, how to protect myself from her kind of fighting. In return, I promised her to teach the same of mine. A sense of purpose I desperately needed, in truth. She kept my mind occupied as best as she could, trying, in her own way to ease the tedium. But she did it for selfish reasons. I could feel, like a wire pulled too taut, her stress and frustration every time she was near Tempest. I couldn't pick any more than that out of her, she kept it bound up tightly. But the two were very obviously not friends at the moment.
Mira… Mira didn't leave my side, almost at all. When everyone was asleep, she would nuzzle against me. If I stirred at night, she was right there, pushing her nose under my hand. When I stared out the window, itching to be out there and frustrated that I couldn't, it was her gentle touch that pulled me back, calmed me, soothed me.
Of all of us, I thought she was handling it the best.
We had, one night in the quiet hours, time to ourselves. Tempest and Claire were sound asleep, and I stirred Mira with a gentle kiss.
“I don't know what I'd do without you." I told her, running my hand along her cheek. “I don't tell you nearly often enough how much you mean to me."
She wagged her tail at that, nuzzling into my hand. Her soulful brown eyes glimmered, glittered in the myriad electric lights, tiny pinpricks of blues and greens, a streak of red. I'd forgotten about those lights, until then, seeing them in her eyes as she stared up at me, waiting for me to speak.
“Mira, I love you. I love you, and I'm grateful to have you here with me. I know you'd like to be out of here, too. Thank you. For every day you've given up to stay by my side."
She sighed, nuzzling into my chest, and putting her dainty paws in my hand. I understood. Hardly time wasted if it was where you wanted to be.
“I love you." I was repeating myself, I knew. But she just nuzzled against me, let me spill my heart out.
So I did, talked about all of my memories of her. Of our little date, and how much I wanted to do it again. Of how much it meant to me, to have her trust, and her love. Hours in that idle stillness, my hand running through the soft fur of her belly while I reminisced.
--Mira--
I don't know what came over him. It was embarrassing, and sweet, and wonderful. He was always talkative, but it was rare that he was so emotional. I didn't know what to make of it, but I didn't want it to stop.
I loved him. I didn't show it the same as Claire or Tempest, but I loved him. I'd been so scared. Terrified. Sick with worry about what we would find, when… or rather, if we found him. I couldn't go in. Not just because he needed more help than we could give him. But because I couldn't be there to see. If… if I'd lost him, I didn't want to see him that way. I wanted to remember him as whole and strong, not … not dead and broken.
I hated watching him, lifeless in that bed, as the doctors and the machokes took care of him in ways I didn't know how. Promised me, again and again how he was going to be fine. I didn't want any of their promises. I just wanted him to open his eyes. I just wanted to hear his voice.
So to hear his voice… saying those things? Telling me how much I meant to him? I couldn't begin to explain how overwhelming it was.
I was glad… that he was the first. The only one to touch me. I'd been so scared. For the longest time, in quiet moments, when I didn't feel like I had to try and fit in, I was ashamed. I was so ashamed of myself. Ashamed and guilty of what we'd done, of what I'd let him do, invited him to do. All that time and he never would have, if I hadn't let him. But I did. I was ashamed, I had regretted it for so long.
I was ashamed. But when he told me not just that he loved me, when he told me all the things he remembered, all the things he treasured, I knew he treasured me. Me. My heart. My feelings. My trust. My love. What I let him have before… he took it with love and gentleness, and treasured it. All of my uncertainties, all of my doubts… in that moment, I knew they were wrong. I knew I'd been wrong.
I'd never felt so full. Pride and joy, and meaning, and belonging. I wanted to laugh, and cry, and tell him so. For the first time since… since I'd let him touch me, I was glad that I did. I was proud of it. Of being with him. Of loving him, and letting him love me.
It was worth it. Worth anything. I worried I had made a mistake. I was so sure I had. I was a foolish girl to have regretted letting him touch me. He was the one. He was absolutely the one.
I kissed him first, this time.
I never kissed first, before.
I loved him with all my heart.
--Trainer--
As late as it felt, I was still worried, just a little, as she kissed me. If we got caught, it would be so many other problems. But I wanted her kiss. Her love. Her comforting weight on me. My unbound hand ran through her fur, silky soft, and warm against me through the flimsy hospital gown.
“Here?" I asked, as she tugged at the blanket, pulling it back slowly, but surely. She wagged her tail, and leaned in to nuzzle against me. “Now?" I was dumbfounded. She had never taken the initiative like that before. The only other time I went further than a kiss or cuddle, she had nervously let me just do what I wanted.
But there was no stopping her, as she squirmed beneath the thin fabrics loosely draped over me. No stopping her, and not a hint of worry.
I was grateful for how little was between us. If I had needed to get up, or undress, it would have been impossible. As it was, her breath, warm and slow, lingered on my sensitive orbs. She made a show of sniffing at them, and, as I bit back something between a ticklish laughter and a pleasured moan, slowly ran her tongue over them.
My hand joined her in the semi-dark confines, stroking her head as she gave me an exhaustively thorough tongue bath. Nothing was hurried, nothing was missed as she worked her way over me, that wet, slick muscle curling around my rod as she stared, fixated on my glistening skin in the colorful little lights.
The only direction I gave her was in stifled, quiet moans, and encouraging little pets as she found all the right spots. I couldn't stand it, I wanted more. I needed more.
“Mira… do you want to try?" I asked, my hand sliding down her tiny body, to rub at her soaking wet cunt as she held back her own whimper, a surprised buck of her hips at my touch.
--Mira--
There was no way. He wanted to put that monster inside me? He couldn't possibly. But maybe… no… yes. No. Yes. Stars above, yes, please. If it didn't work, that was fine. Sort of. It would work. We both wanted this too damn badly for it not to.
I felt it, as I hiked my tail up, it was awkward, trying to back myself up, beneath the blankets, and the weight of his affectionate touch. First soft, like it would just squeeze down. Then hard as a rock. Was… was this what men were like?
As I pushed, and rocked against him, I felt it, pressure, then pain. It hurt! Sharp. Stinging. I didn't know what to do. I whimpered, cried… and then he was there, his touch, his warmth, no longer inside me, but all around me, protecting me… from myself, from him.
He'd stopped… for me. The stinging slowly subsided, and he began to lick the wound… of my first time.
It was uncomfortable, but the pain began to dull, the sharp stinging muted, faded, like the washed out colors of the over-sanitized furniture in the room. And behind it, a kind of warmth, growing slowly. A warmth I understood from last time.
But it wasn't what I wanted. I stilled him, with my paw against his nose, and he let up. He watched, worried, maybe even frightened as I lined myself up, and pushed again.
I was ready this time. I thought.
I thought.
--Trainer--
It was my greatest fear made manifest, her agonized whimper. Her eyes filled with shock, pain, and suffering. I had never wanted to hurt her. I shouldn't have asked. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair to her. I felt horrible the first time, and worse when she went back for more.
She pushed, until the last of her barrier yielded. Pushed even though it was too much. Pushed even as I felt her virgin crimson dripping down on me. Pushed until my crown sat on the throne it had claimed. Pain, and dissatisfaction etched into her expression as I throbbed inside a body too small, too tight to handle it. It wouldn't go further. Couldn't.
I knew. I didn't have to ask why.
“I'm sorry, Mira. I didn't mean to hurt you."
She couldn't muster a reply, just whimpered, as I pulled the blanket back enough to free her ears, rubbing them gently as I watched her. Watched her struggle against pain and discomfort. Against herself, in that moment.
I didn't know what to do. I was worried that anything I did would hurt her, so I waited, my hand a feeble reassurance against something neither of us were prepared for.
“Mira, I love you."
--Mira--
I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand it! Claire could. Tempest could! Why not me? It was all I wanted! The only thing! To just be to him what they were! But as he pulsed inside me, just his tip, every throb hurting me, I couldn't. It didn't matter what I wanted. It wasn't going to fit.
It wasn't fair. It must have been so disappointing to him. He waited so long, so patiently. All that time and I didn't know what I wanted. Kept my distance, kept him waiting. It wasn't fair!
“Mira, I love you." No disappointment at all in his voice. I was wrong. He was worried, and awed. I saw him, as if for the very first time in the slow break of the earliest dawn. His eyes, his worry plain to me. He was worried for how I felt. Worried for me. Whatever it was he might have wanted, the only thing that mattered was me.
Of all the things in the world I could have felt. Of all the things I could have seen in his eyes, he was worried. For my pain. For my frustration. His voice, gentle, soothing, hands holding me so gently. He wasn't disappointed. I knew that. If it weren't for my whimpering, he'd have treasured it. The same as he treasured every other moment we'd shared. Not whether or not he got what he wanted. But that we both wanted to try.
I did. Stars and sunlight. I wanted it so much it hurt. The dull ache in my chest growing every moment, his eyes feeling so distant, as he watched me in … stunned, rapt silence?
--Trainer--
They say a trainer never forgets their first evolution. All I remember of it was Claire's furry hips bucking against me, as she straddled my face. Of the second, pain and darkness, though that suited Tempest in some ways.
This… this was different. Watching her staring down at me with frustration, yearning. Setting those feelings aside with a tender word.
I knew. I realized what was happening. The weight of her own expectations, her own wants. It was too much for her.
I knew, because I knew that look. On the verge of tears, unable to look away from someone you felt you'd disappointed. I also knew how it felt to find out they were proud of you; that you were the only one disappointed in yourself. It was a bittersweet feeling, at best. Mostly it was just shame replacing guilt.
It had been building up inside her, who knows how long. She hadn't betrayed a thing. How much this meant to her. I understood. In that moment, I understood so much more about her.
“Mira…" I whispered her name, kissed her again as it all became too much, the weight of her own expectations breaking the dam of her subtle, persistent will. My lips brushed away her tears, as she quietly cried in frustration.
Her evolution would not be delayed a moment more. It seemed bright, radiant, even against the encroaching dawn, as she wrapped herself in ribbons and bows, like a present waiting desperately for me to open her.
The sudden change, it surprised her as much as me, but as she tentatively touched me, those silky soft ribbons wrapping around me, all I could think was that she was beautiful, especially in that light.
--Mira--
I didn't know what to expect. I knew this day would come. But before, before my beloved, my old trainer had been scheming to steal stones. Wanted me to be tough, to spit fire, to fight, and win. Before, this wouldn't have mattered at all. I didn't have a say in it, I didn't have a say in anything. Now?
Master had never said much about this. Except that he was worried about naming me something that wouldn't suit me. He wasn't worried half as much about what I'd be as he was whether I'd be happy with what he called me. This was mine, from the start with him, this moment was mine.
My feelings. That's what it all came back to. He wanted me to be happy. I had to finish what we started, somehow. He was worried. Was going to ask me to wait. After all this. After all of this, he was about to tell me to stop.
No. No he wasn't. We weren't finished. In any sense. He couldn't just decide that on his own! This was mine, damn it all! For once in my life, I knew what I wanted, and I was not about to let anything take that away!
He didn't resist as I wrapped his arm up. Didn't fight at all as I pinned it back. No. He liked it. I was about to. He was mine. I had only to show him so.
--Trainer--
I was reminded of my misadventures in the mountains, of knowing that my dominant position only existed because my partner let me. Wanted me to.
The tables had turned, as Mira wrapped me up, pulled me where she wanted me. I didn't know what came over her, but I loved it. She had always seemed such a meek, quiet girl, but everything about her had grown so forceful. Right down to her kisses, trailing down my body, as she turned to address my waiting rod, lavishing it with attention, from her sweet little tongue, and, with a playful look over her shoulder, slow, meandering strokes from her newly formed ribbons.
They were like silk, squeezing me tight as she watched me. Obvious self satisfaction as she gave me something I had never felt before. Something only she could. With a firm push on my wrist, she released my arm, and trailed that ribbon down my chest, teasing, again and again, from my collarbone down.
I wanted it, wanted her, so much it hurt. It was amazing, and I had no intention of stopping her. She began grinding against me, putting on a lewd show, the puffy ring of her waiting feminine flesh rubbing up and down my needy cock while she nibbled on the tip of the ribbon she had wrapped around it.
She held me there, watched me as I watched her. Mira toyed with me, teased me, everything we both wanted so close, so tantalizingly close. That moment of anticipation lingering, a memory given to both of us, of those last few seconds before she claimed me.
--Mira--
He was all mine. I didn't need my newfound abilities to tell me that. As I pushed back against his waiting length, still stained with red from my willing blood on him, his eyes told me everything.
And if he had any doubts, I was about to bury them inside me.
He was still enormous, as I sank back against him, the last lingering traces of my barrier parting with a stinging, searing jolt of pain. It fit this time, sank in past that resistance. I felt like I would split, but no, it sank in, so big, so full. Until there wasn't me, wasn't him. I couldn't say where he ended, and I started.
I could feel his heartbeat inside me. Slow and constant. I could feel his feelings. Worry and anxiety melting away, replaced with wonder and joy and love and a slowly growing need. It seemed like I could feel everything. The whole world, and all the noise and confusion in it. It all made sense, if only for that moment. If only for that one perfect moment.
I held him still, held myself still. I took it all in, the sensations of being one with him. I'd never been more sure about anything, and as I looked down at him, his hand caressing me, lost in the moment just as I was, I knew he felt the same. He couldn't take his eyes off me. Good boy. He was about to get a treat! I was about to show him exactly how much he meant to me!
--Trainer--
The sky was growing bright with the rising sun, the valley shrouded in shadow. I'm sure it was a beautiful sight, but if the sun had ceased to exist, I doubt I'd have noticed. All I saw was this beautiful girl sinking down, her body claiming mine, gripping me as if tailor made. What didn't sink into her tight, hot belly, she was squeezing and caressing with her silky sweet appendages, soft fur tickling over my sensitive skin, cradling the most delicate part of me, and with surprising gentleness, stroking the full, aching orbs I wanted nothing more than to relieve as deep inside her as we could manage, as soon as we could manage it.
She stared down at me, a still, quiet moment passing, before my hand reached up, caressing her cheek, stroking her ear. A single, whispered, pleading “Please."
She was gentle, but skies above, she was thorough. Her hot ring sliding up to the tip of my crown, joined with the snug, silky squeezing of her ribbons, and then back down, until I came to rest against her womb.
Again, and again, that intense, wonderful motion, equal parts a perfect, slow, passionate fuck, and being stroked to climax by the softest, gentlest touch I had ever felt. The image of her, lowering herself so slowly, the weight of her body letting me slide into her, satisfaction, beyond anything I'd ever seen her express before.
There was no way I was going to last. I didn't want to. I just wanted to flood her. To fill her.
“Mira… do it. Take me, beautiful."
--Mira--
As if he needed to tell me! I could feel it! Throbbing, pulsing. My first time, I wanted this. I needed it! Deep, hard, I pushed down as he sprayed me. I could feel it coming! Hot pressure forcing its way into me, deeper in my belly than I knew existed. It belonged there. His seed warmed me in a way that had nothing to do with heat, yet still felt like fire!
He had given me pleasure before, but not like this. My whole body felt it, felt his, too. We had both peaked, together. His feelings were so good, so perfect. This was how it should be. How I dreamed it would feel.
I wanted to make him feel like that again. Maybe I would, later, when my legs stopped shaking. At that moment, I just wanted to curl up on his belly and enjoy the scent of the puddle of us.
But I could reward him, just a little. I knew he had enjoyed my touch on those lovely, heavy balls of his, and they had done a good job of filling me. It was no real effort, after all.
Besides, he was still perfectly hard, filling me, stretching me, his hand caressing my back in all the right ways. I supposed I could indulge him. I wanted him to remember it just like I would. So I didn't protest. This time, I knew for sure I didn't mind giving him what he wanted.
We took our time, slow and lazy, not that I gave him much choice in the matter. I could feel him, as he pushed in. Could feel it drag against me as I pulled out. As wonderful as it felt when he flooded me the first time, it was curious that I only barely felt it the second. But I could tell he felt it. His hand tangled up in my ribbons, his eyes unfocused, vaguely on me, his hips bucking up into me. I might not have felt it so much in my belly… but I felt it in my heart, and it was wonderful. Warm and fulfilling. What we had made me feel complete, and loved, and needed.
It made me feel whole, when I didn't even realize anything had been missing.
--Trainer--
She kept caressing my spent manhood, in the afterglow, a sleepy, happy yawn as she stared up at me from my belly. We had done it. She had done it.
It had been almost too much, overwhelmingly good. Everything she did, as though she knew exactly what I wanted, exactly how I felt. More than that… it felt as though it were mirrored in her own wants, her own needs.
I loved her, and I was enthralled by her. She had changed so much from our first meeting. No. Not changed. She had become free. That's what I gave her. Not just my love, or happy memories. I realized with a giddy little grin. She was free to be exactly who she was.
Mira, beloved. She had decided it for herself.
Of all of my memories of her, I knew I would treasure that, best of all. The night she chose for herself.