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Love and Light

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Day 27: Latex | Phone Sex/Sexting | Maid/Butler | Tentacles

Dick has never felt so out of his depth. He hasn’t felt this--yeesh, under-qualified since he was prepubescent. Part of him is still paranoid the powers he wields now open him up to stuff he doesn’t understand. 

That’s not to say his jitters prevent him from enjoying the really cool stuff that comes with his new job: being able to fly, the magical-girl style transformations, tapping into his emotions in a way that feels concretely constructive, and (naturally) making constructs. 

He trains for hours (usually in his quarters, he’s still not quite comfortable using the Zamaron dojo with the others, yet) and hopes that he’ll eventually be as graceful as his seniors.

So what if he’s lonely, so what if the first constructs that come naturally are uncanny silhouettes of people he misses, sentimental objects.

A batarang.

An arrow.

A lasso.

A familiar shuriken.

He tries not to think about it.

He focuses more on abstract shapes: forces, entities, all non-humanoid. That's not either: fire makes him think of Kory; water, of Garth and Kaldur. 

He throws himself into researching what he can make that will still channel love but not in a way that feels like picking at a scab.

It doesn’t take long for him to figure out the ring can shape love and lust in similar ways. So maybe training takes some weird turns--who’s going to judge him for that who hasn’t already judged him for this costume?

He’s back in his quarters, lonely and horny, and he's loved the spectral mass of tentacles in front of him into being. He wills it to pick him up.

It does, and it curls around his limbs, cradling him. He doesn’t have to hold himself up like this and it’s oddly comforting, even though it’s less warm like a body would be and more--electric, almost ticklish.

He hadn’t realized how touch-starved he was until it was almost relieved. They’re caressing him everywhere and he wills away his uniform.

One pushes at his lips and makes them tingle unnaturally. He opens his mouth, and there’s no sensation he can really compare this too.

It rests there, and the light is thrumming softly against his tongue, muffling his whine as another tentacle brushes its tip back and forth against his bare pussy.

He twists his hips a little, to try and rub his clit against it, but must be subconsciously enjoying the restraints too much for them to let him get too far. He’s keening by the time it pushes inside him, long and smooth and almost painfully thick.

The key is almost--he doesn't actually feel any pain.

It pumps in and out of him, and a smaller one is pushing at his asshole. He’s able to relax every muscle, since he’s weightless like this, supported on every side. The one behind him slips inside him easily--there isn’t the friction, just the gentle stretch and electric fullness.

Both of them swell even larger inside him, fucking him in perfect syncopation, and he groans around the one in his mouth.

And he’s so not used to trying to embrace sensation without trying to escape, to imagine something else, but here there’s no pain or jealousy. He’s not fucking about someone else. Just love, just him, he thinks.

He bets he’s putting on one hell of a show, though--the light is translucent violet where it holds him.

Someone could see exactly how gracefully he arches in the tentacles’ grasp, how his muscles flutter, how wet he’s getting. They could see him cum in perfect detail--

He’s so close, and his mind empties of everything else. He wants it all: he wants to cum, he wants to be fucked forever.

His subconscious must decide that he's ready, as the tentacle holding his right hand lets go and dives to rub at his clit. He squirms and bucks, but the others just tighten around his limbs until all his muscles tighten and he's forced to cum.

Dick's head is clearer now, but his connection to the ring feels stronger and more natural than ever. He wills his uniform back into place and has the mass release him in mid-air.

He knows he'll land on his feet.