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Bertoli s hands, those eyes.
You can, but you re not ready to yet. His arms and legs were placed on the spread
boards once again, the cuffs left hanging. No moving, please.
He nodded, meeting Bertoli halfway. Help me. I need you.
I know. A soft, familiar laugh sounded, Bertoli s eyes warm as they held his. And I
need to help you.
Bertoli stepped away a moment, only long enough to fill a bowl with warm water and
pour in the antibiotic soap.
I m sorry. It was easy to relax, to close his eyes and pull into himself into the quiet.
The cloth was soft and warm as it slid across his neck. For what?
For losing it. For not being ready. Oh. Better. He lifted his chin.
The cloth continued to clean him in careful strokes over his skin. So thorough. You
tried, my dear. I cannot ask for more.
I just want to sleep. For hours. Forever.
When we re done. I promise.
His shoulders and arms were cleaned, then his chest, each touch wiping away the sweat,
the dirt. Every touch made it easier, let him breathe. Let him feel safe.
Bertoli hummed softly as he cleaned Dent s hips and genitals. Almost done. And then
the alcohol. So clean.
Yes. Yes. Clean. How we begin. Dent felt drugged, almost floating.
Yes. Bertoli laughed, the sound delighted. How we begin. His feet were tickled
gently by the cloth. There.
Yes. Yes, there. Better. Thank you.
You re welcome, my dear. The alcohol, now, and we will be done. You will be clean.
The alcohol-soaked swab slid across his skin, leaving the cool tightness behind. He
moaned, shivering a little, stretching on the table, skin coming awake.
We have begun. Soft touches slid across his lips. Are you ready for step two?
He refused to release his peace, his relaxation. He had earned this. If I m not, you ll
stop.
The soft chuckle was a caress. Yes. I will.
The gentle touches moved from his lips to his belly, Bertoli s fingers warm. Things
slowed, went quiet and easy and he let it happen, let himself experience the sensations. He
wasn t feeling , but rather just being there.
Those warm fingers slid between his legs, one pushing against his hole, stroking the skin.
They disappeared and returned, slick now, pushing harder against him. He tried not to tense, not
to be frightened, concerned. Trying not to worry.
Let the feelings out, Dent. Don t hide. One of Bertoli s fingers slid into his body.
I don t. I. I don t want to be scared anymore. It wouldn t stop, the tension, the shaking.
You don t need to be scared here. I will always stop when you need me to. A second
finger slid into him, both of them moving slowly, pushing in and out of him.
I don t know what to do. It was all too much, too hard, too big.
That s simple, my dear. You just do what I tell you.
The words actually surprised a laugh out of him.
Bertoli s chuckles echoed his own laughter. You see? Already you have found
something of yourself. The warm fingers slid away. Time now for the tube. You remember
this. You know how it works. How we clean you inside.
I & I remember. He did, but he wasn t sure. He didn t know. You ll stop if I need you
to.
You know I will. The warm fingers were back, slicker, pushing him wide. He couldn t
feel the cool of the tubing yet, though he knew it was coming.
A moment later Bertoli s fingers slid away, his body closing over the tube.
His shoulders left the table, hands reaching for his lover.
One of Bertoli s hands caught his, holding on tightly. I have you.
You do. He hated this, hated being needy.
I do. His hand was pressed down against the board. Lie still for me, Dent. It s time to
fill you.
I don t know if I want to do this. He never knew.
Bertoli chuckled softly You do.
I & He couldn t ignore this, couldn t not feel it. I m not ready.
You are. The liquid solution began to fill him.
A soft moan left him, part fear, part worry, part something he didn t even begin to
understand.
Bertoli s hand slid across his belly, massaging gently as he became more and more full.
You re doing so well, my dear. So very well. Their eyes met, his entire self inside and out
shaking, trembling. Bertoli smiled, eyes so warm, holding him. I have you.
Promise? He closed his eyes against the tears that threatened.
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