Ayre

Snapdragon’s teeth settle into the flesh of my shoulder.

“Is this okay?” She asks, her breath causing me to shudder.

I’m not okay.

That’s… Not what she asked.

The feel of another’s teeth nearly causes me to bend the metal of the dividing wall between us as I fight against urges to… Defend myself.

I shake my head. “Don’t pull away. Just… Give me a moment.”

Her cheek brushes ever so gently against mine. A welcome warmth in stark contrast to the bitter cold tension and panic stirred by her teeth resonating with old memories.

Deep.

Dark.

From the depths of my past.

A life before a princely hunger for blood.

Snapdragon’s words, ever gentle and distant, guide me back to the present. “Know that this never has to go further without your explicit approval.”

With her words comes the sensation of her breath and lips brushing against my flesh.

The rush of my blood and a desperate need to fight or flee begins to become something… Else.

Something I have been alone in denying myself.

I shake away exchanges of teeth and flesh and limbs in the depths.

“I know.” As my lips part, I will my eyes to open. The simple act of taking in the room around me becomes an exercise in grounding myself.

Here.

In this place. In Snapdragon’s arms.

It is home. And I am safe here.

Not that she could stop me from… I flinch, before deciding to allow the thoughts to spiral out into their natural conclusions. I remind myself that I am not my impulses or worst thoughts.

Her touches are weak… No, delicate.

Her voice is not veiling threats but intended to instill comfort for my sake.

She has her own overly sensitive features to worry about. In that regard, that she is whispering likely serves a dual purpose.

My urge to growl a warning becomes a low and thoughtful hum as I arrive at a conclusion that should have seemed inevitable after but a moment’s thought.

Snapdragon is not a threat.

“I am… Not in danger.” I say, exhaling a held breath.

Slowly but surely, I work at easing the grip of my hands.

What would have happened if my hands had gripped her flesh?

Would it have been harder to let go?

Or easier because she wouldn’t fight back?

Far more likely that she would have just… Talk me through it.

I stop myself. Unlike the previous thought spirals, these might drift somewhere uncomfortable. I force myself to accept what I have and focus on pushing myself into the part where I have enough assurances to finally finish letting down my guard.

I allow myself to feel more than the warmth of her embrace. Now that Snapdragon has passed the red heating stone to my side of the dividing wall, I can soak in the feeling of having my fears melt away.

She waits patiently until it is abundantly clear that I have recovered from my initial reactions. “You don’t associate biting with anything pleasant, do you?”

My eyes narrow on instinct. “No. Why should I?” The terse reply does not leave my lips before I regret it.

Snapdragon senses this, and gives me a tight lipped smile. “In part, because I think you’d be well served to find releases for the tension you will inevitably accrue.” Her hands reach for mine. Instead of holding them, she draws her fingers in artfully paced motions along the palms and undersides of my clawed fingers.

When I look up, I find that her gaze is fixated on every reaction of mine. A shudder here, a hitched breath there. “I see.” And with that, I will my gaze to soften. “Thank you. This is… Okay. I think I’ve weighed the value of your words enough to want it. Even if all this would not be my first choice for burning off the excess instincts I’m left to grapple with long after they are useful.”

Snapdragon leans close, a wistful sigh passing through her lips. “I’m afraid my value as a sparring partner will be middling at best. Our beloved Seers, even less so. If you are to bind yourself to them through affection instead of obligation, I think it is worth measuring your comfort with intimacies of sharing your flesh with another.”

The laugh that follows is unexpected. I’m reminded of this morning cleanup where Cerya struggled to balance the weight of a single bolt thrower. “You’re likely right. I can’t exactly show my appreciation for Cerya coming to my rescue if my every reaction to being touched in a way I don’t expect prompts me to fear for my life.” My musings do not stop with my words.

As my gaze falls into introspection, I am left to consider how to proceed. Can sharpened claws and thirsting fangs be applied to a gentler purpose?.Only one way to find out, I suppose.

Deft strokes soon begin to cleave lingering stains from Snapdragon’s forearms. The slow motions that linger long after the cleaning is done prompt shudders from my bathing partner.

Her fluttery words that follow are an attempt to further assure me. “We can… Take it slow.” It is hard to miss the wild look in her eyes that takes more than a few hitched breaths to calm.

I feel an urge to reach deep into our lungs as Lenore seeks to tug at this body and make her presence known once more. “You two finally enjoying yourselves?”

There is no playfulness in her voice. Just a subdued rumble of a voice intended to test the waters and see if a delicate moment has passed.

“I’m okay.” I eventually say aloud. My gratitude is directed as inward as it is outward. At no point during my averse reaction and subsequent spiraling did I feel Lenore attempt to intervene.

The last thing I likely need in response to feeling like I am in danger is a loss of control over my own body. Although a part of me hopes I can trust her to hold me back if she disagrees strongly enough.

But I suppose I am already in capable hands. They’re ones I am now taking a chance on trusting to scrub my most delicate scales.

Now that I am not pulling away from every touch, we quickly learn that my scales are far less sensitive if she strokes or rubs in the downwards direction that the scales are growing. It is the inverse that threatens to lift and tug if the touch is too careless. A closer inspection by Snapdragon informs me that the new ones are literally tearing their way through my flesh. Much to my relief, scales that seem to have largely finished setting into place no longer agitate my flesh and lose much of their sensitivity.

I wish I could say the same was true for my breasts.

Snapdragon assures me that it is the earliest stages of growth that are the most sensitive. In this at least, our bodies are comparable, what with her not being much further along than me in that regard.

But before I can dwell on that, Lenore takes her suggestions in a different direction. “Based on how their growth spurts have lined up with chest injuries, we could just speed up our body’s reactive responses with a drawn out night of biting at our chest.”

“No.” I say, cutting off the idea before I can entertain it. “I feel full for once. I’m wary that making this an intentional night of pain is not a healthy way to go about it.”

“You’re probably right.” Snapdragon confirms, sounding only slightly disappointed.

“Besides, I don’t know anything about my body’s new additions.” I elaborate. “And immediate discomfort isn’t worth recklessly hurting ourselves.”

“As girls, this is a topic that literally any of us can help you understand.” Snapdragon offers, before narrowing her eyes and jabbing gently at Lenore. “What I won’t claim to know is how your body works. Unless you know precisely what you’re doing, I urge you to reconsider.”

Lenore huffs, raising up the hand most badly burned by last night’s gemstones. “Like most things that stem from our parasite, I’m operating almost entirely off of memories and vague instincts. The most I know how to do is lean into it and commit more blood if I think the need is great.”

Snapdragon frowns. “I worry about how much you hurt yourselves.”

My sister averts our gaze. “We wish we knew a better way. I rarely get to stay for long unless…”

I am the one to raise a hand over my heart, intending to reach for Lenore in the only way it feels I can. “None of what I’m saying now is meant to make you feel like I don’t want you here. Your presence is worth a little pain and discomfort.”

“None of that, you’re worth more nonsense.” Snapdragon says with a warning glare that catches the both of us off guard in its fierceness.

Right. She was there to resonate with that memory.

Snapdragon isn’t finished. She adds her hand to mine. The touch lingers, causing us to shiver.

Depths, we’re in deep now, aren’t we Lenore?

From there, Snapdragon resumes exploring our body by hand. Gentle scrubs are followed by even gentler caresses. Time and again I assure her that I am okay with whatever part of my body is next to earn her caring touch.

At regular intervals she stops to take measure of my own comfort. Although I suspect she is just drinking in how much we seem to be enjoying ourselves.

Stolen story; please report.

It is slowly and clumsily that I have been endeavoring to reply in kind. Where Snapdragon is all precise and measured advancements, I make up for clumsy and uncertain motions with an intensity of attention.

The occasional nudge by Lenore helps this all feel more natural than it might otherwise.

I find myself not only allowing, but encouraging Lenore’s assistance. When asked about the switching between Lenore and my control, I clarify. “My sister has had the body of a girl for longer than me.”

Snapdragon leans into our hand rubbing against her cheek with a soft sigh. “Ayre, if you perceive yourself as a girl, or a Princess, or a Drake, you can just be that.”

When I don’t immediately agree, she reaches out to thumb at the chip in my lip from my first failed attempt at feeding. “To fuss over the details and timing is more trouble than it’s worth. I have found that it hurts less if I look back at myself through the perspective of how I wish to present and be pleasantly surprised by the me that shines through.”

I need more than just a few moments to dwell on that. My quietly forming aversion to her words are difficult to muster when even my scars are being marveled at.

But before I can muster up the courage, Lenore tugs at our lips to call attention to a key detail. “I’m still your older sister. So there!” She smiles wide for the two of us.

But some look in my eye must betray me, as Snapdragon beckons me once more into her embrace.

The unspoken promise of her outstretched arms contain more than just warmth,safety, or pleasure. There is a patience, acceptance, and sense of understanding that draws me into more than just wanting to accept. I want to lose myself in these sensations. To put off and inconvenience the world so I can linger in these precious moments where I feel safe trusting another.

It is by wordless agreement that the dividing wall of the bath that limits our embraces becomes more trouble than it is worth.

Snapdragon pulls me along in her embrace as she spares an arm to begin a cycling out of all the water now that we’ve both been scrubbed of the worst of last night’s remnants.

The time it takes to lift the barrier and drain the water is spent working up the courage to commit to the idea of someone else sinking her teeth into my flesh.

Our heart races as we imagine what it will feel like to experience pain without fear of death or failure. It is a familiar sensation made exciting and new again by taking away everything that would make us want to avoid it.

I blink before feeling Lenore reach out to guide Snapdragon’s head to rest on our shoulder. “It’s okay.” Lenore shudders with anticipation. “I want this.”

Snapdragon’s embrace becomes a full body one.

Pain alights as our heart hammers against the confines of our chest. We guide our clawed fingers to Snapdragon’s back, gently pushing aside her red hair until it drapes over a far shoulder.

“Don’t hold back for me.” Snapdragon growls through clenched teeth. “I can take it.”

We close our eyes as her teeth break through our skin. We rake our claws in response, taking great care to leave only tender marks and not draw blood.

As fresh water pours in to fill the bath once more, our embrace is drawn to a close only by a need to keep our heads above water. Fresh from finally giving into our urges, we take in each other’s bodies outlined in a rippling pool.

All of Snapdragon’s lean muscles are packed into wherever her role as a Watcher drills into and demands of her. Curiously, her breasts are almost as small as mine, and infinitely more sensitive.

She offered to explain, so I ask.

“For a Watcher, breasts are considered largely unnecessary.” She softly explains. “Naturally, as a result their growth is discouraged. Not that it has been all that hard for Cerya to encourage them to begin growing again. Left untended to, they’re supposed to take many eclipses to fully grow. I’d actually hoped to be far away from this grove before they grew large enough to be noticeable.”

“If that’s still something you want.” I start to say, before stopping to wonder if I am overstepping.

Snapdragon takes my hand, her fingers lacing between mine. “It is. But it’s not an immediate worry.”

Lenore finishes my promise for me. “Then you and I will grow beyond this grove.”

Our words provoke a different kind of gasp from Snapdragon. When at last she regains her composure, her fingers begin to trace the thickened veins along our extended arm that grow far more prominent with extended use.

I take that as a sign for me to match her in sharing vulnerable details about my body. “These on the other hand are incredibly necessary when, as Lenore put it, the need is great.”

Still, I find them unsightly enough to pull my arms away after her touch causes me to shudder.

“If the circulation of blood is important to how your body works, it’s worth bringing up with the Seers whenever you sit down to discuss your body’s changes.”

I… Want to say that I’ll keep it in mind but only nod.

Instead of continuing to explore and share in each other’s bodies like I had hoped, Snapdragon draws attention to this withdrawal from her affections.

“Please don’t beat yourself up.” Her words skip ahead of my own thoughts, cutting me off before I can lament the need to withdraw my consent.

“How do you do that?” Lenore growls. “How does everyone seem to know more about what we need than we do?”

I clear my throat, unsure what to add now that Lenore is practically speaking my mind. We withdraw our legs, folding them up and against our chest as we hold ourselves tight.

“By suffering their own pains, most likely.” I supply, unable to get the image of Astraea’s neck out of my mind.

Snapdragon sighs before pulling her hair back. “To be fair, the two of you have largely been confined to some unbearable depths.” Her voice softens at the depths’ mention.. “By comparison, how long did they spend on teaching you to be a Prince?”

My sister uses my voice to whine. “Long enough to think of ourselves as a wretch for taking the only option afforded to us in a desperate bid to survive.”

“No time at all, by comparison.” I whisper mournfully. “Or far too long now that I know Lenore has spent this time existing only in darkness between desperate periods of need.”

Lenore’s reply is a wordless grumble in begrudging agreement.

Snapdragon does not take our hand, or close in on us. She merely shifts herself into our half of the bath, revealing scars that do not heal like ours do in the process. An abundance of lighter ones decorate the front and her arms. It is when her back is briefly turned that the deep gouges of once life threatening wounds are revealed.

Did we really claw at her back and not cause her to flinch or…

Please, don’t beat yourself up.

Snapdragon’s recent words ring in our ears.

We stop ourselves from spiraling as she sits in a mirrored pose as us.

“I don’t think you’re being fair to yourselves.” She says with a frown. “Which is not to say that you can’t be upset or uncertain. I just don’t think you should think less of yourselves or think of either of you as holding the other back as a result.”

We meet her gaze.

This time it is Lenore that wishes to look away.

I let her.

“Easy for you to say.” Lenore growls, showing our teeth. “You still have your own body.”

A less than pleasurable hitch in Snapdragon’s breath prompts us to both look back as her eyes begin to water.

“Depths.” Lenore curses. “That’s why you want to get away, isn’t it?”

Snapdragon only nods before holding up a palm to put this conversation on hold. Her ears flick as she turns to look at the entrance to the bath before the knock comes, as if to warn us that we are about to be interrupted.

It seems the time for this conversation to remain between us has ended.

It is a soft and familiar voice that apologizes after the knock. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overhear that. I just… Heard the water finish cycling and thought…”

Snapdragon’s lip tightens as she watches us, expectantly.

“Come on in, Cerya.” We say, before thinking on it and deciding that Cerya might appreciate a more overt invitation. “If there were to be anyone I’d accept inviting themselves in, it would be the Seer who has claimed the both of us. Please, feel welcomed in joining us.”

“If you’re sure.” Cerya whispers only after she closes the door behind us.

Snapdragon beckons the Seer to join us in spite of the tears still streaming down her cheeks. “My love, this is neither the first, nor the last time you’ll find me withering away from your ever fretful gaze.”

Cerya directs a sad smile at us bundled in one another’s arms. “As your Seer, how could I turn a blind eye?”

With or without the dividers, there is more than enough room for all three of us to find space to stretch out and relax within this bath. The problem immediately facing us is a prolonged negotiation on how close we’re all comfortable being in relation to another now that Cerya has missed the bulk of what has unfolded in her absence.

Close, but not too close enough to impose, all while wanting to give enough space to cry or, no, it’s fine and so on. Drawn out further as Snapdragon calls attention to Lenore’s vulnerabilities that have largely remained unknown to Cerya.

The time spent negotiating just so happens to be spent helping Cerya undress and feel clean enough to enjoy the comfort of sharing a bath with her…

“Lovers.” is very distinctly the word she uses.

It is something I have no immediate resistance to being called. And that in and of itself causes me to hesitate. Am I sure? No, really. She means it, even as we fret and struggle to accept it.

After that display, Cerya refuses to settle in a position where either of us are out of arm’s reach, resulting in an arrangement where the both of us are pressed up against either side of her. Even then it takes time for arms and legs to search for an entanglement that extends comfort to the far partner without being itself uncomfortable.

I quickly find that I have a lot of affection for bites that do not pierce the flesh. Especially when they are leveled at my legs.

Although Cerya insists that such gentle expressions are called nibbles.

Lenore shakes our head. “Does the difference matter when Snapdragon is sensitive enough that her reactions are indistinguishable?”

Cerya is even kind enough to do the nibbling and biting on our behalf, much to Snapdragon's cries of distress.

“Like you ahh… Have room to talk!” The hand she cups around my breast by way of reply causes my whole body to shake and writhe.

And for once in my life, I consider the sensation most welcome.

If I can ignore the occasional feeling of being cramped within my own flesh or the urge to use a tail I don’t have, I almost feel up to admitting that this is the best I’ve ever felt.

Feeding on another doesn’t count. It satisfies unnatural instincts imposed upon us that come at the expense of another.

This?

These… Pleasures of the flesh.

Snapdragon and Cerya put time and effort into finding a guilt free way for us to feel comfortable in circumstances we would never have thought possible.

I don’t even know how to begin to communicate how much it means to me. Eventually I decide to stop overthinking about it and just start by expressing my appreciation directly.

The least I can do is begin to pay them back with what small expressions of affection I feel comfortable sharing. Even if it feels like it could never compare to how patient Snapdragon and Cerya have been in easing me into feeling comfortable in my body and how I am perceived enough to share these pleasures with others.

Our Seer currently has her eyes closed as Snapdragon kneads at her breasts. I briefly wonder how long it will take for either of the rest of us to not be completely incapacitated by anything resembling a passing touch, let alone dedicated massages.

Seeing how Cerya is already on the receiving end of another’s affections, I lean towards Snapdragon.

My eyes widen as Snapdragon turns into my advance, her lips intercepting mine.

I freeze in place, even as her lips and breath brush ever so gently against my flesh.

“Is this okay?”

I cherish her prioritization of my comfort by taking her head in my hands.

“This is the most okay I’ve ever felt.”

Only then does she complete the gesture.

So… That’s what those feel like.

Lenore makes a strange purring noise with our voice that we compare more to furred predators kept by Vylian nobility more than the expression of pleasure she intends. “Finally. I was wondering who’d be the first to steal away your first kiss.”

Yeah.

I think I really like kisses.

Hard to think as my head spirals through recontextualization of a number of memories.

I’ll… Have to be sure to give Lenore and Selescia the opportunity to do that again.

Fia making the gesture at a mirror reminds me of how awkward I’ve felt at being new to… All of this.

The last memory of a kiss to have a long delayed understanding of affection tied to it is actually the first to have occurred.

A Castellan’s icy blue lips press against my forehead as I shake and shiver and writhe… Fresh from taking my first life.

I barely even understood words back then.

Being hardly any different from any other in my clutch at that point, I reduce myself to the memory of what it was like to be a freshly hatched broodling receiving comfort and reassurances from the Broodmother I now fear.

Born to a life of darkness and expected to survive by any means necessary.

As a wretched Prince now turned beloved Princess, I know better now.

I am the only broodling of my clutch to escape the Depths alive.

It is enough to change how I feel about the gesture, at least in the moment.

My conclusions demand that I scream.

Positions are adjusted to account for a cry of genuine distress.

What I struggle to explain, Lenore offers her own recounting.

Recovering takes a while, but we learn that it is far easier to open up in a safe environment.

It becomes even easier to let go of the problems that will persist long after we leave this bath.

In the arms of those I love, every scream that follows is welcomed by gently negotiated pleasures.