I know I can not harm you no matter vhat I do, but that does not mean I vish to be careless and cause you pain." I begin massaging his anus, while my other hand simply holds his hard cock lightly. "I vant to make you feel as intensely as you made me feel. I vant to touch your soul, as you touched mine. That is not something that can be done in ignorance."
I insert a finger into him, confident that the glove safely blunts my nails. He opens easily to that, as I expect, but I push far in regardless, then withdraw and add my second finger. This is also not difficult for him to accommodate, but I work them around inside him, twisting and spreading my fingers. I add my thumb, sliding it right down the groove formed by my other two fingers, pushing my hand in deeper and stretching him more widely. My knuckles press against his sphincter now, but I encounter no real resistance. He is breathing deeply and regularly, eyes closed, mouth opening slightly as he inhales, head tilted back, looking both concentrated and relaxed, both at the same time.
I slide in easily, and am left with the ring of muscle gripping only my wrist. I am almost surprised to find my hand inside his body, it has happened so suddenly. I stare at the strange sight, trying to comprehend what I have done. It is so incredible and yet also entirely ridiculous. I feel as if I should laugh, but do not.
I am in him, not with my cock, which is accustomed to being enclosed in that way and is something intended for such a purpose, but with my hand, which is meant to touch and feel, explore and use. This is definitely more intimate, an act of conscious deliberation, not an instinctive reaction to sexual desire. I am almost afraid that I have dared to do such a thing. My hand is actually inside my lover.
But I must not let him think I am being hesitant. "Good. Very good," I say, as if it happened just as I had expected it to. I clench my hand into a fist and hear him draw in a breath. I wiggle my fingers and he moans.
I push forward gently, in time with the pull of his body. My fingers seem enclosed in a living tunnel of flesh. I stroke the soft inside of that tunnel with the knuckle of my thumb and it yields. I feel the power of what I have done, as the slightest movement of my hand causes him to gasp. If I were to spread my fingers and force them into him, I could perforate the thin and relatively fragile walls of his rectum far easier than I could a woman’s vagina. It occurs to me that I could kill an ordinary man like that. A shiver of horror runs through me. It would not be an easy way to die.
"Elf? You okay?"
I open my eyes, startled to realize that I have closed them. Logan is looking at me.
"Uh – ja. I should be the one asking you that," I admit, ashamed of my lapse in concentration.
"You’re doin’ fine. Go deeper, darlin’. I want it and I can take it, don’t worry."
I nod. "If that is vhat you vant, that is vhat I vill give you. Now be quiet. I vill talk to you. You vill not talk to me. Verstehst du?"
"Jawohl, mein Herr," he replies softly, with just a touch of amusement in his voice. "I understand."
I push carefully, watching my wrist disappear even further, the distances now measured more in millimeters than centimeters. It seems too easy. Even through the glove, I feel the heat of his body. There is little resistance as I push further into that slippery tunnel, but I am aware of a ring of growing tightness where my forearm begins to widen. I stop for a time, opening and closing my fingers, watching his face for any sign of pain as I do so. There is only a sort of slack-jawed look, a slight parting of his lips.
"Ah, you like that, do you? Do you also like this?"
I clench my fist tightly, causing the muscles in my arm to tighten and bunch up. He sucks a shaky breath through his mouth, and murmurs something incoherent.
I relax my arm and slide in a little more. A sharp intake of breath as I reach his prostate with the base of my thumb. I angle my hand so that I can press harder and am rewarded with a louder moan of pleasure. His face now wears that intensely concentrated expression that means incipient orgasm. I do not even have time to touch his cock before he comes hard, his seed splattering over his own chest. "Yes," I encourage him. "That is vhat I vant to see. Give it to me. Give it all to me."
Watching him, I have time to realize that my penis is throbbing with desire, leaking pre-cum, but I do not wish to go there now. I remember what it was like when Logan fisted me, the almost trance-like state I went into, where pleasure was a constant and only the intensity varied from time to time. I want him to feel that, as I did, so I will ignore my desire and concentrate only on his.
I again push further into him as his body relaxes after orgasm. I am not sure how deeply he has been opened before, but he shows no sign of discomfort, so I cannot be hurting him.
But now I encounter a slightly different feeling, as if that soft tunnel has developed a curve. Experimenting with my first finger, I extend it carefully around that turn. I wiggle it gently, then follow the first finger with the second one, moving forward only very slowly so that the curve allows itself to straighten out and slide over my knuckles. If I am remembering correctly the anatomy images I have studied, this should be the beginning of his sigmoid colon. There will be more curves beyond this one, and each must be entered and gently persuaded to straighten out or I will get no further.
This takes time and patience, but as I continue to succeed in my efforts, I begin to become accustomed to the sensation. I wish I did not need the gloves, so that my fingertips could make a more intimate contact. My eyes are closed now, all my concentration on the tiny increments of progress as I make them. I am almost oblivious to what exactly it is that I am doing, so focused am I on working my hand deeper into his gut.
My cock twitches with pleasure, and I feel that lovely sensation deep inside my own body, throbbing, pulling, clenching, wanting, growing stronger until I realize I am moaning softly with the intensity of my own building desire. But I cannot seem to make him share that incredible feeling.
I open my eyes, and see that my elbow isn’t far from following where my hand has led the way. No, I really have no business doing that. I do not have the experience to risk pushing into him much deeper. But there is one more curve at my fingertips. I seem to feel his heartbeat, perhaps from the proximity of my hand to his aorta. I cannot resist the attempt to go this last bit of distance.
This curve is sharper, more upwards, with the entrance feeling slightly smaller. There is less flexibility here. One finger massages the walls, coaxing, seeking to persuade his body to allow me in deeper. I want so much to draw from him the response that can easily be triggered in me: a gently repeated clenching of my pelvic muscles, not so intense and sustained as the hard spasms of orgasm, but intensely pleasurable nonetheless. Perhaps this final barrier will be the key to making him feel it.
My probing finger slides around that curve, but the following finger cannot quite make it. I settle for using that first finger to tickle and tease the space immediately beyond the curve.
With a half-gargled "Guhh!", his fists clench into the bedcovers and his claws extend. His body arches upwards and he ejaculates again. This time it is too much. Watching him pushes me so close to the edge that I cannot help but use my free hand to gain my own release as Logan collapses, panting and retracting his claws. I pull my mind away from my fading orgasm and attempt to appraise the situation.
My arm is now inside him up to my elbow, with his sphincter stretched tightly around the widest part of my forearm.
"I can feel your heartbeat, mein Schatz," I tell him. "I now know vhat it means to feel someone from the inside. Es ist wunderbar, aber auch erschreckend."
Yes, it may be wonderful and also terrifying, but this is not yet where I want him to be. It is not I who must feel the wonder and the terror, if I vish to have his trust as he had mine. It is him.
Although some part of me would like to jam my arm into him as far as my shoulder, I know I am not experienced enough at this to dare to do that. Slowly, I begin to back my hand out.
I have another idea, something I did only once as a child. Of course, my hands were much smaller then, but that is what brought the idea into my head. I have felt that "too easy" entrance before, and I recall what Herr Grüber told me to do in order to satisfy my customer.
I see the slight frown on his face as he realizes what I am doing. Before he can protest, I say quickly, "Do not think I am finished vith you. I have not yet gotten from you vhat I vant. It is not over. In a vay, it is just beginning."
His eyes open and he is staring at me with something akin to fear mixed in with his surprise.
"I did not say that you could open your eyes." Reacting to my tone of command, he swiftly closes them again. Good. I am making progress. It is hard for me to be this overbearing. It is simply not my accustomed style.
My fingers retreat as I continue to pull my arm back. I am suddenly aware that I have gone beyond the edge of my glove without even noticing and my heart skips a beat. I calm myself. Even that should be no problem. If nothing else, I can hold the glove tightly with my fingers as I withdraw my hand.
In another minute, I have pulled my hand free, the glove giving me no problem at all, as I had hoped.
Quickly, I wipe most of the lube off my gloved hand, then use it to hold the other glove, so I can get it onto my left hand. Not as easy as it sounds, and I fumble around a bit.
"Kurt? What are you doing?"
"You vill find out soon enough." Ah! The glove is on. I reach for the Crisco again, rubbing a generous amount onto my hands and smearing a fresh coating on his anus. "Think back to vhat you told me shortly before you fisted me, Logan."
"Give me a break, darlin’. I told you a lot of things before I fisted you."
"I’m thinking of one thing in particular. One very important thing."
He turns his eyes away from me when he answers. "Uh – I can’t remember in detail. Did it have to do with trust?"
"Ja. You said, ‘I know what you’re afraid of. Trust me. It ain’t gonna happen’."
"Your memory is better than mine."
"Stop trying to distract me." I keep quiet and very still for a moment, to let that sink in. "Now you must trust me. But you must not only trust me vith your body, as I did you vith mine. That vould be too easy, since I cannot truly harm you the way you can harm me. You must trust me also vith your heart. And you cannot do that unless you vill surrender to me. Stop trying to show me how easily you can allow me the use of your body. Stop trying to show me anything at all. Leave all this to me. I vant you to turn all control over to me, and trust me to use it visely. I vant you to do this out of your love for me, trusting in my love for you. I cannot force this from you; you must give it freely."
"I know." He sounds chastened now, not very much like the usual Wolverine. Let us see if I can keep him that way.
All the while I have been speaking to him, I have been slowly working my right hand back into his anus. My knuckles slide in now, much more easily than before, if such a thing is possible. Now comes the difficult part, for me as well as for him.
"Close your eyes, and keep them closed," I order him sternly.
"Elf? Why can’t I look? What are you doing?" For the first time, he sounds uncertain. Good!
"I vant no more of your vords. Now you vill listen to me. It is time for you to give me the same trust that I once gave you, for I vant to give you the same exquisite experience that you once gave me."
Wrapping my opposite thumb and third finger around my right wrist, I start very slowly pushing the middle finger into him, keeping it tucked tightly into the groove formed by my right palm.
"The ecstasy of sex is not a shameful thing. It is holy," I tell him, hoping to distract him from what I am doing and at the same time make it very clear why I am so set on doing this. "Vhy do you think that mystics down through the ages have often described union vith God in terms that verge on the sexual? They vere not unavare of vhat they vere saying. Quite the opposite, in fact."
He opens his mouth, as if he is getting ready to argue with me, but all he does is inhale sharply. He should be able to feel the stretching now, as the finger is almost in and the rest of my left hand is pressing against his anus.
"Unh! Ahh! Jesus Fucking Christ, Elf! What the fuck are ya doin’? Ohh!"
"Shh. You vill find out soon enough. Do not open your eyes. Pay attention to vhat I am telling you." I resume my lecture. "Sex at its best is surrender and victory, both at once. It is a longing to make love to all of creation, to open yourself to the holiness of the vorld. It is that vhich can never truly be described, but only felt; something that cannot be told to others but can only be experienced."
He grunts, letting his head fall back and breathing once again in through his nose and out through his mouth. His breath slows as he tries to accommodate my third finger.
"But it is also more fragile than the finest porcelain," I continue, "and as fleeting as the snowflake that melts in your hand, for it can be broken by the tiniest of things and defiled beyond measure or comprehension."
"Elf, you’re scarin’ me. Stop, please."
There is real fear in his voice, but I do not intend to stop now.
"There is nothing terrible happening. I am not going to hurt you. I could not if I tried. I know how difficult this is for you, but difficult does not mean impossible." I finish my plea in an intense whisper. "Bitte, du musst mir vertrauen."
"Mmhhmm," he moans in tortured agreement. My finger slips inside and I begin to work my thumb gently against his sphincter.
"Gut. Ganz gut," I reassure him. "This is the experience I vish to offer to you, mein Schatz, for you have seen and known far too much of the defilement and debasement of desire, and far too little of the incredible holiness of sex."
My thumb pushes through and my fingers interlace inside him.
"On a certain level, it can become the highest form of communion vith God."
Even as I say this, I realize that my hands are now clasped together just as they would be if I were praying, with my fingers alternately entwined.
Meanwhile, he appears almost out of it, eyelids fluttering, mouth open slightly, and a strange look on his face.
"Logan?" I say softly. "You can open your eyes now, if you vish."
"Uuhh," is the only response I get.
"Logan? You still vith me?"
"Yeesss. I – think so."
I breathe a sigh of relief.
"I don’t need ta open my eyes. You’ve got both hands in me, haven’t ya?"
"Ja. Is it all right?"
"Ganz gut, mein Herr."
Good. He still has a sense of humor, if he can answer me like that. He is totally OK with what I have done. Addressing me with the equivalent of "Sir" is not truly necessary, and is very likely an attempt at mild sarcasm, but it does sound nice coming from him, considering.
"Mein Schatz, I do not intend to force my hands in any deeper, as I do not believe I have the experience necessary for that. But I do vant to be sure you enjoy this, so I vill try a few things vhile I am here."
Keeping my hands clasped, I wiggle the tips of my fingers a bit, just enough that I think he will feel it.
He does. His body arches as his muscles clench around my hands. "Oh god!" he gasps.
I do it a few more times, moving a bit more each time.
"Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ, that feels terrific, Elf! More than terrific!"
"Bitte, no more blasphemy, ja?" I request.
He gives a little chuckle. "Oh gosh, darlin’, that feels wonderful."
Now he is clearly teasing me. No matter. At least he is reacting to what I am doing.
I want to be able to reach his genitals, to arouse him further, but both of my hands are unavailable for this purpose. Ah, but my tail is free! How could I have forgotten that?
Carefully, I bring it around in front of me, just allowing the flat surface of the end to graze his balls. He starts, then realizes what it is. "Oh yeah," he gasps. "Oh yeah."
Just before the arrow-shaped end, my tail is very narrow and also extremely flexible. I coil it into several loops around the shaft of his penis, which has drooped slightly. This immediately recalls his cock to life. It stiffens and begins thrusting forward within the broad circlet formed by my tail.
My tail moves with him, but gently, softly, slowing him down so he has time to feel and appreciate each slight bit of these delicious sensations. The motion of his pelvis also causes my hands to move inside him. I accentuate that friction, delicately stroking with a varying combination of fingers.
I feel that faint quiver of his insides that I am so used to feeling in myself, that sense of drawing in a desired intruder, that exquisite yearning, the need to surrender and yield your body to another.
I have at last made him feel that internal spasming. My hands are being squeezed regularly now, and I can see the slight twitch and release of the muscles in his lower abdomen that accompanies it. Each time, he makes a soft sound, as I do when I feel it happening within me.
"Elf, what the --?"
"Shh, shh. This is all right. This is good. This is vhat I have been trying to do to you. Calm yourself. Vhat do you feel?"
"It’s – it’s like an invisible finger has reached inside me and is stirring something around just below my bladder, making everything twitch. Aahh!"
Verdammt! He has just described it better than I have ever been able to.
"Ja, that is it. Do not fight it. Accept it. A sort of steady-state sense of continuing pleasure, not entirely voluntary, but not completely involuntary either. It is happening inside me even now, just from feeling it within you."
"I never imagined –"
I cut him off. "Shh. Too many vords. Just feel. Just be."
All too easily now, I could take my own advice and drift off into my private world of ecstasy. But I must not. If I give myself over to that wondrous sensation, I will forget what I am doing and lose my focus on Logan. You wanted control, Kurt, I remind myself. Responsibility is the price of control. Pay it. He is what counts now, not your pleasure.
Speaking of private worlds, Logan appears to be off in his own, consumed entirely by the sensations he has never felt before. With no more extra appendages left to use, I lay my cheek lightly on his abdomen just above his groin, where I can feel the lovely twitch of his muscles deep inside. Whether or not he will be able to summon up this pleasure during our usual sex, at least he will understand how I feel.
I raise my head, then lean forward over him as far as I can. Without even expecting him to hear me, I whisper softly, "Ich liebe dich so sehr."
His barely audible reply astounds me on more levels than one.
"Ich dich auch."
Tears fill my eyes and overflow to drip down upon his belly. Herrgott! He has actually said that he loves me!
Something inside me melts and I lose track of everything except intense joy and ever-mounting pleasure. We are synchronized now, the rhythm of those internal spasms that work their magic inside us both running together. In my wildest dreams, never did I imagine such a thing could happen.
Time dissolves into the present moment. Enveloped in this shared experience, I can barely tell where my body ends and his begins. I am moaning and whimpering helplessly in the grip of an overwhelming sense of happiness and peace such as I have never felt before. Oh Gott, it is too much! I cannot contain this overabundance of love. I will surely soon explode into a million quivering pieces and each piece will sing of its incredible joy.
Does this ineffable feeling last for a moment or an hour? I do not know. All I know is that the usual version of reality seeps slowly back into my fevered brain. I must bring all this to a conclusion, before we both drop dead of exhaustion, or too much delight.
I press one surface of the flat end piece of my tail against the tip of Logan’s almost painfully swollen, leaking cock. Nothing more is needed to push him over the edge. I can feel his seed pumping through his penis with the coils of my tail. That is enough to set me off also. Too wrung out to even scream, we both let out a strange choking moan, which could as easily indicate pain as pleasure. I collapse, my upper body on top of him, too weak to move.
As may be expected, Logan recovers before I do.
"Enough, Elf."
"Out?" is my barely audible reply.
"Yes, but take it real easy, huh? It’s gonna hurt."
Out. Yes, it is time. He appears exhausted, both mentally and physically. I am not surprised to realize that I am too. My arms ache, now that I am no longer so wrapped up in the experience. My scored back hurts sharply in a number of places, and blood tickles its way down my spine, clearly from the only partly scabbed tracks of his blades that have been pulled open by my exertions. Yes, it is worth these minor hurts, but this is enough.
I flatten both my palms together tightly and begin to retreat, slowly and carefully. I can see streaks of blood on the backs of my hands, but I know he will heal as soon as the pressure that caused the tears in his sphincter is relieved.
Logan sighs as my hands leave his body. His eyes are closed and he looks peaceful now, more relaxed than he usually appears even in sleep. If I could only make that peace last for him forever! But I know that cannot be. There is too much conflict within his heart, too much barbed wire tangled around his tortured soul. Sadly, such a man is not meant for a life of peace and contentment, either mentally or physically. But I will give him every bit of both whenever I can.
Recalling the sharp pang of loss I felt when his hand had been removed from me, I think perhaps he feels that now. To counter that possibility, I lie face down on top of him, my head on his chest, our bodies stuck together with sweat and our combined cum. It is messy, but strangely right, just at this moment.
His arms wrap around me with a tightness that almost feels like desperation. It hurts the slashes on my back, although I try not to wince.
"Aw, shit! I’m hurtin’ ya," he says as he lets me go. But I do not move off of him. I am too comfortable here. His hand reaches for my head as he smoothes back my hair and looks me in the face.
"I had no idea I could feel something like that, outside of the brief seconds of orgasm. I don’t understand."
"I do not understand how it works either, but – O God! – I surely know how wonderful it feels!" I smile down at him. "And now you know also."
"Can you feel it all the time?"
"You mean vhen we have sex?"
"Yeah."
"Ja, I can, once I become sufficiently aroused."
"But what happens when you come?"
"The same thing that just happened to you: it intensifies about a thousand times."
"Holy Shit." But the way he says it is an expression of awe, not disgust.
"Shit is not holy, mein Freund. Gott is holy. Love is holy. Sex can be holy. But shit –" I shake my head and grin – "No, I do not think that qualifies."
He laughs and pulls my head down against his chest once more. We lie like that in silence until I almost think he has fallen asleep. I do not mind if he has. I am very comfortable here.
But he is not asleep.
"Elf?"
"Ja?"
"Over the last few months, I’ve seen what I could easily become if anything happened to you, and it ain’t pretty. I don’t think I’d be able to subdue the monster that lives inside me anymore. I don’t think I’d have the heart even to try."
"Someday you may have to," I tell him, half wishing it was not necessary to do so. "You have already lived longer than I probably vill. Who knows how long you may be able to renew yourself the vay you can now? You must be prepared to out-live me."
He shakes his head and looks away. "I don’t think I want to."
"But ve do not need to vorry about that just yet, do ve?" I point out. "I am not so very old, and many things can happen that are now unknown to us. No mortal can know the hour of his death until it arrives. God villing, ve have many more years to live, and many more things to do vhile ve are alive, nicht wahr?"
I take a handful of his thick black hair in each hand and turn his face back to me, ready to claim his lips. I realize I am still wearing the heavy rubber gloves and have just smeared Crisco, if nothing worse, into his tangled hair. "Ach du Scheisse!" I exclaim in dismay, pulling off the gloves and tossing them aside.
He laughs and replies to what I have said. "I sincerely hope not, darlin’, or I’m gonna make you wash it off with your tongue."
"You and vhat navy?" I reply saucily.
"Uh – darlin’ –"
"Nein! Do not tell me. I have got it wrong again. Let me guess. ‘Marine’ does not sound right, so it must be ‘army’."
"Got it in one, Elf."
He pulls me down into a kiss, to which I respond with great enthusiasm. When we are finished, his mood is much brighter.
"Yer absolutely right, darlin’. We got lots more to do. But the first thing I suggest is another bath in that new tub ya bought us. You with me?"
"Ja! Jetzt und immer bin ich mit dir, mein Schatz. Jetzt und immer."
Yes! I am with you now and always, my dearest. Now and always.
GERMAN TRANSLATION
Genug! Enough!
mein Schatz my darling/dearest/sweetheart
Zum Teufel! To the Devil!
Danke Thanks
Ja, natürlich. Yes, certainly.
Vas? What?
Verstehst du? Do you understand?
Jawohl, mein Herr Yes, Sir.
Es ist wunderbar, aber auch erschreckend.
It is wonderful, but also terrible.
Gut. Ganz gut. Good. Totally/entirely good.
Verdammt! Damn!/Damn it!
Ich liebe dich so sehr. I love you so much.
Ich dich auch. I love you too. (Literally, I you also, love being understood.)
Herrgott! Lord God!
mein Freund my friend
nicht wahr? Isn’t it?
Ach du Scheisse! Very emphatic version of Oh, shit!
STORY ARC – In Order
Something a Little Different
As the Twig is Bent
Pray for Us Sinners
With Nothing on My Tongue
You Win, Elf
Hell Hath No Fury
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I insert a finger into him, confident that the glove safely blunts my nails. He opens easily to that, as I expect, but I push far in regardless, then withdraw and add my second finger. This is also not difficult for him to accommodate, but I work them around inside him, twisting and spreading my fingers. I add my thumb, sliding it right down the groove formed by my other two fingers, pushing my hand in deeper and stretching him more widely. My knuckles press against his sphincter now, but I encounter no real resistance. He is breathing deeply and regularly, eyes closed, mouth opening slightly as he inhales, head tilted back, looking both concentrated and relaxed, both at the same time.
I slide in easily, and am left with the ring of muscle gripping only my wrist. I am almost surprised to find my hand inside his body, it has happened so suddenly. I stare at the strange sight, trying to comprehend what I have done. It is so incredible and yet also entirely ridiculous. I feel as if I should laugh, but do not.
I am in him, not with my cock, which is accustomed to being enclosed in that way and is something intended for such a purpose, but with my hand, which is meant to touch and feel, explore and use. This is definitely more intimate, an act of conscious deliberation, not an instinctive reaction to sexual desire. I am almost afraid that I have dared to do such a thing. My hand is actually inside my lover.
But I must not let him think I am being hesitant. "Good. Very good," I say, as if it happened just as I had expected it to. I clench my hand into a fist and hear him draw in a breath. I wiggle my fingers and he moans.
I push forward gently, in time with the pull of his body. My fingers seem enclosed in a living tunnel of flesh. I stroke the soft inside of that tunnel with the knuckle of my thumb and it yields. I feel the power of what I have done, as the slightest movement of my hand causes him to gasp. If I were to spread my fingers and force them into him, I could perforate the thin and relatively fragile walls of his rectum far easier than I could a woman’s vagina. It occurs to me that I could kill an ordinary man like that. A shiver of horror runs through me. It would not be an easy way to die.
"Elf? You okay?"
I open my eyes, startled to realize that I have closed them. Logan is looking at me.
"Uh – ja. I should be the one asking you that," I admit, ashamed of my lapse in concentration.
"You’re doin’ fine. Go deeper, darlin’. I want it and I can take it, don’t worry."
I nod. "If that is vhat you vant, that is vhat I vill give you. Now be quiet. I vill talk to you. You vill not talk to me. Verstehst du?"
"Jawohl, mein Herr," he replies softly, with just a touch of amusement in his voice. "I understand."
I push carefully, watching my wrist disappear even further, the distances now measured more in millimeters than centimeters. It seems too easy. Even through the glove, I feel the heat of his body. There is little resistance as I push further into that slippery tunnel, but I am aware of a ring of growing tightness where my forearm begins to widen. I stop for a time, opening and closing my fingers, watching his face for any sign of pain as I do so. There is only a sort of slack-jawed look, a slight parting of his lips.
"Ah, you like that, do you? Do you also like this?"
I clench my fist tightly, causing the muscles in my arm to tighten and bunch up. He sucks a shaky breath through his mouth, and murmurs something incoherent.
I relax my arm and slide in a little more. A sharp intake of breath as I reach his prostate with the base of my thumb. I angle my hand so that I can press harder and am rewarded with a louder moan of pleasure. His face now wears that intensely concentrated expression that means incipient orgasm. I do not even have time to touch his cock before he comes hard, his seed splattering over his own chest. "Yes," I encourage him. "That is vhat I vant to see. Give it to me. Give it all to me."
Watching him, I have time to realize that my penis is throbbing with desire, leaking pre-cum, but I do not wish to go there now. I remember what it was like when Logan fisted me, the almost trance-like state I went into, where pleasure was a constant and only the intensity varied from time to time. I want him to feel that, as I did, so I will ignore my desire and concentrate only on his.
I again push further into him as his body relaxes after orgasm. I am not sure how deeply he has been opened before, but he shows no sign of discomfort, so I cannot be hurting him.
But now I encounter a slightly different feeling, as if that soft tunnel has developed a curve. Experimenting with my first finger, I extend it carefully around that turn. I wiggle it gently, then follow the first finger with the second one, moving forward only very slowly so that the curve allows itself to straighten out and slide over my knuckles. If I am remembering correctly the anatomy images I have studied, this should be the beginning of his sigmoid colon. There will be more curves beyond this one, and each must be entered and gently persuaded to straighten out or I will get no further.
This takes time and patience, but as I continue to succeed in my efforts, I begin to become accustomed to the sensation. I wish I did not need the gloves, so that my fingertips could make a more intimate contact. My eyes are closed now, all my concentration on the tiny increments of progress as I make them. I am almost oblivious to what exactly it is that I am doing, so focused am I on working my hand deeper into his gut.
My cock twitches with pleasure, and I feel that lovely sensation deep inside my own body, throbbing, pulling, clenching, wanting, growing stronger until I realize I am moaning softly with the intensity of my own building desire. But I cannot seem to make him share that incredible feeling.
I open my eyes, and see that my elbow isn’t far from following where my hand has led the way. No, I really have no business doing that. I do not have the experience to risk pushing into him much deeper. But there is one more curve at my fingertips. I seem to feel his heartbeat, perhaps from the proximity of my hand to his aorta. I cannot resist the attempt to go this last bit of distance.
This curve is sharper, more upwards, with the entrance feeling slightly smaller. There is less flexibility here. One finger massages the walls, coaxing, seeking to persuade his body to allow me in deeper. I want so much to draw from him the response that can easily be triggered in me: a gently repeated clenching of my pelvic muscles, not so intense and sustained as the hard spasms of orgasm, but intensely pleasurable nonetheless. Perhaps this final barrier will be the key to making him feel it.
My probing finger slides around that curve, but the following finger cannot quite make it. I settle for using that first finger to tickle and tease the space immediately beyond the curve.
With a half-gargled "Guhh!", his fists clench into the bedcovers and his claws extend. His body arches upwards and he ejaculates again. This time it is too much. Watching him pushes me so close to the edge that I cannot help but use my free hand to gain my own release as Logan collapses, panting and retracting his claws. I pull my mind away from my fading orgasm and attempt to appraise the situation.
My arm is now inside him up to my elbow, with his sphincter stretched tightly around the widest part of my forearm.
"I can feel your heartbeat, mein Schatz," I tell him. "I now know vhat it means to feel someone from the inside. Es ist wunderbar, aber auch erschreckend."
Yes, it may be wonderful and also terrifying, but this is not yet where I want him to be. It is not I who must feel the wonder and the terror, if I vish to have his trust as he had mine. It is him.
Although some part of me would like to jam my arm into him as far as my shoulder, I know I am not experienced enough at this to dare to do that. Slowly, I begin to back my hand out.
I have another idea, something I did only once as a child. Of course, my hands were much smaller then, but that is what brought the idea into my head. I have felt that "too easy" entrance before, and I recall what Herr Grüber told me to do in order to satisfy my customer.
I see the slight frown on his face as he realizes what I am doing. Before he can protest, I say quickly, "Do not think I am finished vith you. I have not yet gotten from you vhat I vant. It is not over. In a vay, it is just beginning."
His eyes open and he is staring at me with something akin to fear mixed in with his surprise.
"I did not say that you could open your eyes." Reacting to my tone of command, he swiftly closes them again. Good. I am making progress. It is hard for me to be this overbearing. It is simply not my accustomed style.
My fingers retreat as I continue to pull my arm back. I am suddenly aware that I have gone beyond the edge of my glove without even noticing and my heart skips a beat. I calm myself. Even that should be no problem. If nothing else, I can hold the glove tightly with my fingers as I withdraw my hand.
In another minute, I have pulled my hand free, the glove giving me no problem at all, as I had hoped.
Quickly, I wipe most of the lube off my gloved hand, then use it to hold the other glove, so I can get it onto my left hand. Not as easy as it sounds, and I fumble around a bit.
"Kurt? What are you doing?"
"You vill find out soon enough." Ah! The glove is on. I reach for the Crisco again, rubbing a generous amount onto my hands and smearing a fresh coating on his anus. "Think back to vhat you told me shortly before you fisted me, Logan."
"Give me a break, darlin’. I told you a lot of things before I fisted you."
"I’m thinking of one thing in particular. One very important thing."
He turns his eyes away from me when he answers. "Uh – I can’t remember in detail. Did it have to do with trust?"
"Ja. You said, ‘I know what you’re afraid of. Trust me. It ain’t gonna happen’."
"Your memory is better than mine."
"Stop trying to distract me." I keep quiet and very still for a moment, to let that sink in. "Now you must trust me. But you must not only trust me vith your body, as I did you vith mine. That vould be too easy, since I cannot truly harm you the way you can harm me. You must trust me also vith your heart. And you cannot do that unless you vill surrender to me. Stop trying to show me how easily you can allow me the use of your body. Stop trying to show me anything at all. Leave all this to me. I vant you to turn all control over to me, and trust me to use it visely. I vant you to do this out of your love for me, trusting in my love for you. I cannot force this from you; you must give it freely."
"I know." He sounds chastened now, not very much like the usual Wolverine. Let us see if I can keep him that way.
All the while I have been speaking to him, I have been slowly working my right hand back into his anus. My knuckles slide in now, much more easily than before, if such a thing is possible. Now comes the difficult part, for me as well as for him.
"Close your eyes, and keep them closed," I order him sternly.
"Elf? Why can’t I look? What are you doing?" For the first time, he sounds uncertain. Good!
"I vant no more of your vords. Now you vill listen to me. It is time for you to give me the same trust that I once gave you, for I vant to give you the same exquisite experience that you once gave me."
Wrapping my opposite thumb and third finger around my right wrist, I start very slowly pushing the middle finger into him, keeping it tucked tightly into the groove formed by my right palm.
"The ecstasy of sex is not a shameful thing. It is holy," I tell him, hoping to distract him from what I am doing and at the same time make it very clear why I am so set on doing this. "Vhy do you think that mystics down through the ages have often described union vith God in terms that verge on the sexual? They vere not unavare of vhat they vere saying. Quite the opposite, in fact."
He opens his mouth, as if he is getting ready to argue with me, but all he does is inhale sharply. He should be able to feel the stretching now, as the finger is almost in and the rest of my left hand is pressing against his anus.
"Unh! Ahh! Jesus Fucking Christ, Elf! What the fuck are ya doin’? Ohh!"
"Shh. You vill find out soon enough. Do not open your eyes. Pay attention to vhat I am telling you." I resume my lecture. "Sex at its best is surrender and victory, both at once. It is a longing to make love to all of creation, to open yourself to the holiness of the vorld. It is that vhich can never truly be described, but only felt; something that cannot be told to others but can only be experienced."
He grunts, letting his head fall back and breathing once again in through his nose and out through his mouth. His breath slows as he tries to accommodate my third finger.
"But it is also more fragile than the finest porcelain," I continue, "and as fleeting as the snowflake that melts in your hand, for it can be broken by the tiniest of things and defiled beyond measure or comprehension."
"Elf, you’re scarin’ me. Stop, please."
There is real fear in his voice, but I do not intend to stop now.
"There is nothing terrible happening. I am not going to hurt you. I could not if I tried. I know how difficult this is for you, but difficult does not mean impossible." I finish my plea in an intense whisper. "Bitte, du musst mir vertrauen."
"Mmhhmm," he moans in tortured agreement. My finger slips inside and I begin to work my thumb gently against his sphincter.
"Gut. Ganz gut," I reassure him. "This is the experience I vish to offer to you, mein Schatz, for you have seen and known far too much of the defilement and debasement of desire, and far too little of the incredible holiness of sex."
My thumb pushes through and my fingers interlace inside him.
"On a certain level, it can become the highest form of communion vith God."
Even as I say this, I realize that my hands are now clasped together just as they would be if I were praying, with my fingers alternately entwined.
Meanwhile, he appears almost out of it, eyelids fluttering, mouth open slightly, and a strange look on his face.
"Logan?" I say softly. "You can open your eyes now, if you vish."
"Uuhh," is the only response I get.
"Logan? You still vith me?"
"Yeesss. I – think so."
I breathe a sigh of relief.
"I don’t need ta open my eyes. You’ve got both hands in me, haven’t ya?"
"Ja. Is it all right?"
"Ganz gut, mein Herr."
Good. He still has a sense of humor, if he can answer me like that. He is totally OK with what I have done. Addressing me with the equivalent of "Sir" is not truly necessary, and is very likely an attempt at mild sarcasm, but it does sound nice coming from him, considering.
"Mein Schatz, I do not intend to force my hands in any deeper, as I do not believe I have the experience necessary for that. But I do vant to be sure you enjoy this, so I vill try a few things vhile I am here."
Keeping my hands clasped, I wiggle the tips of my fingers a bit, just enough that I think he will feel it.
He does. His body arches as his muscles clench around my hands. "Oh god!" he gasps.
I do it a few more times, moving a bit more each time.
"Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ, that feels terrific, Elf! More than terrific!"
"Bitte, no more blasphemy, ja?" I request.
He gives a little chuckle. "Oh gosh, darlin’, that feels wonderful."
Now he is clearly teasing me. No matter. At least he is reacting to what I am doing.
I want to be able to reach his genitals, to arouse him further, but both of my hands are unavailable for this purpose. Ah, but my tail is free! How could I have forgotten that?
Carefully, I bring it around in front of me, just allowing the flat surface of the end to graze his balls. He starts, then realizes what it is. "Oh yeah," he gasps. "Oh yeah."
Just before the arrow-shaped end, my tail is very narrow and also extremely flexible. I coil it into several loops around the shaft of his penis, which has drooped slightly. This immediately recalls his cock to life. It stiffens and begins thrusting forward within the broad circlet formed by my tail.
My tail moves with him, but gently, softly, slowing him down so he has time to feel and appreciate each slight bit of these delicious sensations. The motion of his pelvis also causes my hands to move inside him. I accentuate that friction, delicately stroking with a varying combination of fingers.
I feel that faint quiver of his insides that I am so used to feeling in myself, that sense of drawing in a desired intruder, that exquisite yearning, the need to surrender and yield your body to another.
I have at last made him feel that internal spasming. My hands are being squeezed regularly now, and I can see the slight twitch and release of the muscles in his lower abdomen that accompanies it. Each time, he makes a soft sound, as I do when I feel it happening within me.
"Elf, what the --?"
"Shh, shh. This is all right. This is good. This is vhat I have been trying to do to you. Calm yourself. Vhat do you feel?"
"It’s – it’s like an invisible finger has reached inside me and is stirring something around just below my bladder, making everything twitch. Aahh!"
Verdammt! He has just described it better than I have ever been able to.
"Ja, that is it. Do not fight it. Accept it. A sort of steady-state sense of continuing pleasure, not entirely voluntary, but not completely involuntary either. It is happening inside me even now, just from feeling it within you."
"I never imagined –"
I cut him off. "Shh. Too many vords. Just feel. Just be."
All too easily now, I could take my own advice and drift off into my private world of ecstasy. But I must not. If I give myself over to that wondrous sensation, I will forget what I am doing and lose my focus on Logan. You wanted control, Kurt, I remind myself. Responsibility is the price of control. Pay it. He is what counts now, not your pleasure.
Speaking of private worlds, Logan appears to be off in his own, consumed entirely by the sensations he has never felt before. With no more extra appendages left to use, I lay my cheek lightly on his abdomen just above his groin, where I can feel the lovely twitch of his muscles deep inside. Whether or not he will be able to summon up this pleasure during our usual sex, at least he will understand how I feel.
I raise my head, then lean forward over him as far as I can. Without even expecting him to hear me, I whisper softly, "Ich liebe dich so sehr."
His barely audible reply astounds me on more levels than one.
"Ich dich auch."
Tears fill my eyes and overflow to drip down upon his belly. Herrgott! He has actually said that he loves me!
Something inside me melts and I lose track of everything except intense joy and ever-mounting pleasure. We are synchronized now, the rhythm of those internal spasms that work their magic inside us both running together. In my wildest dreams, never did I imagine such a thing could happen.
Time dissolves into the present moment. Enveloped in this shared experience, I can barely tell where my body ends and his begins. I am moaning and whimpering helplessly in the grip of an overwhelming sense of happiness and peace such as I have never felt before. Oh Gott, it is too much! I cannot contain this overabundance of love. I will surely soon explode into a million quivering pieces and each piece will sing of its incredible joy.
Does this ineffable feeling last for a moment or an hour? I do not know. All I know is that the usual version of reality seeps slowly back into my fevered brain. I must bring all this to a conclusion, before we both drop dead of exhaustion, or too much delight.
I press one surface of the flat end piece of my tail against the tip of Logan’s almost painfully swollen, leaking cock. Nothing more is needed to push him over the edge. I can feel his seed pumping through his penis with the coils of my tail. That is enough to set me off also. Too wrung out to even scream, we both let out a strange choking moan, which could as easily indicate pain as pleasure. I collapse, my upper body on top of him, too weak to move.
As may be expected, Logan recovers before I do.
"Enough, Elf."
"Out?" is my barely audible reply.
"Yes, but take it real easy, huh? It’s gonna hurt."
Out. Yes, it is time. He appears exhausted, both mentally and physically. I am not surprised to realize that I am too. My arms ache, now that I am no longer so wrapped up in the experience. My scored back hurts sharply in a number of places, and blood tickles its way down my spine, clearly from the only partly scabbed tracks of his blades that have been pulled open by my exertions. Yes, it is worth these minor hurts, but this is enough.
I flatten both my palms together tightly and begin to retreat, slowly and carefully. I can see streaks of blood on the backs of my hands, but I know he will heal as soon as the pressure that caused the tears in his sphincter is relieved.
Logan sighs as my hands leave his body. His eyes are closed and he looks peaceful now, more relaxed than he usually appears even in sleep. If I could only make that peace last for him forever! But I know that cannot be. There is too much conflict within his heart, too much barbed wire tangled around his tortured soul. Sadly, such a man is not meant for a life of peace and contentment, either mentally or physically. But I will give him every bit of both whenever I can.
Recalling the sharp pang of loss I felt when his hand had been removed from me, I think perhaps he feels that now. To counter that possibility, I lie face down on top of him, my head on his chest, our bodies stuck together with sweat and our combined cum. It is messy, but strangely right, just at this moment.
His arms wrap around me with a tightness that almost feels like desperation. It hurts the slashes on my back, although I try not to wince.
"Aw, shit! I’m hurtin’ ya," he says as he lets me go. But I do not move off of him. I am too comfortable here. His hand reaches for my head as he smoothes back my hair and looks me in the face.
"I had no idea I could feel something like that, outside of the brief seconds of orgasm. I don’t understand."
"I do not understand how it works either, but – O God! – I surely know how wonderful it feels!" I smile down at him. "And now you know also."
"Can you feel it all the time?"
"You mean vhen we have sex?"
"Yeah."
"Ja, I can, once I become sufficiently aroused."
"But what happens when you come?"
"The same thing that just happened to you: it intensifies about a thousand times."
"Holy Shit." But the way he says it is an expression of awe, not disgust.
"Shit is not holy, mein Freund. Gott is holy. Love is holy. Sex can be holy. But shit –" I shake my head and grin – "No, I do not think that qualifies."
He laughs and pulls my head down against his chest once more. We lie like that in silence until I almost think he has fallen asleep. I do not mind if he has. I am very comfortable here.
But he is not asleep.
"Elf?"
"Ja?"
"Over the last few months, I’ve seen what I could easily become if anything happened to you, and it ain’t pretty. I don’t think I’d be able to subdue the monster that lives inside me anymore. I don’t think I’d have the heart even to try."
"Someday you may have to," I tell him, half wishing it was not necessary to do so. "You have already lived longer than I probably vill. Who knows how long you may be able to renew yourself the vay you can now? You must be prepared to out-live me."
He shakes his head and looks away. "I don’t think I want to."
"But ve do not need to vorry about that just yet, do ve?" I point out. "I am not so very old, and many things can happen that are now unknown to us. No mortal can know the hour of his death until it arrives. God villing, ve have many more years to live, and many more things to do vhile ve are alive, nicht wahr?"
I take a handful of his thick black hair in each hand and turn his face back to me, ready to claim his lips. I realize I am still wearing the heavy rubber gloves and have just smeared Crisco, if nothing worse, into his tangled hair. "Ach du Scheisse!" I exclaim in dismay, pulling off the gloves and tossing them aside.
He laughs and replies to what I have said. "I sincerely hope not, darlin’, or I’m gonna make you wash it off with your tongue."
"You and vhat navy?" I reply saucily.
"Uh – darlin’ –"
"Nein! Do not tell me. I have got it wrong again. Let me guess. ‘Marine’ does not sound right, so it must be ‘army’."
"Got it in one, Elf."
He pulls me down into a kiss, to which I respond with great enthusiasm. When we are finished, his mood is much brighter.
"Yer absolutely right, darlin’. We got lots more to do. But the first thing I suggest is another bath in that new tub ya bought us. You with me?"
"Ja! Jetzt und immer bin ich mit dir, mein Schatz. Jetzt und immer."
Yes! I am with you now and always, my dearest. Now and always.
GERMAN TRANSLATION
Genug! Enough!
mein Schatz my darling/dearest/sweetheart
Zum Teufel! To the Devil!
Danke Thanks
Ja, natürlich. Yes, certainly.
Vas? What?
Verstehst du? Do you understand?
Jawohl, mein Herr Yes, Sir.
Es ist wunderbar, aber auch erschreckend.
It is wonderful, but also terrible.
Gut. Ganz gut. Good. Totally/entirely good.
Verdammt! Damn!/Damn it!
Ich liebe dich so sehr. I love you so much.
Ich dich auch. I love you too. (Literally, I you also, love being understood.)
Herrgott! Lord God!
mein Freund my friend
nicht wahr? Isn’t it?
Ach du Scheisse! Very emphatic version of Oh, shit!
STORY ARC – In Order
Something a Little Different
As the Twig is Bent
Pray for Us Sinners
With Nothing on My Tongue
You Win, Elf
Hell Hath No Fury
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