#asra babe

You are tired of Asra’s games. 

“Come on, please tell me what it is!” You beg as you cling to his arm. He keeps you light on your feet as he pulls you down the opulent corridors of the palace. The two of you have just left one of the dancehalls and you’re still a little dizzy from it. Not to mention that you’ve had more than a few drinks by now.

Asra’s doesn’t drop his teasing grin. “I want it to be a surprise. We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” You huff.

Asra stops at one of the many polished doors and takes out a key. He lets you inside a private chamber. Inside, the light filtering from the lanterns is pale, but soft. The walls and carpet are bathed in a spectrum of teals and cyan blues with accents of gold.

You look around in wonder. “Asra, where are we?”

He closes the two of you inside the cozy space. “Do you like it? Watch your step.” He catches you before you stumble into the shallow depression carved in the floor. It’s home to a concentration of cushions and downy blankets.

There is also someone waiting for you in the center of the nest. Like all of the guests in the palace, they wear a mask.

“MC,” they say with a delicate incline of their head, “always a pleasure.”

Then they take their time removing their mask. You blink in disbelief as Asra’s face grins back at you. 

The Magician? What were they doing at the masquerade? Unlike Asra, they were not wearing a costume.

In fact, they were not wearing much of anything.

You walk up to them and kneel down. “It’s good to see you!” You scratch behind their fox-like ears. “But what are you doing here?”

The Magician nuzzles against your hand and closes their eyes in satisfaction. “Mmm. That’s a good question.” Then they surprise you by pouncing and rolling until you’re on your back.

“Did you miss me?” They say in between nipping affectionately at your neck. 

You laugh and suddenly wish you weren’t restricted by the masquerade costume. 

“Of course I do! But will somebody please tell me what’s going on?”

Asra finally comes to your aid, laughing good-naturedly as he lifts the Magician up by their shoulders and sits them down. Once you’re all seated with your legs crossed, Asra and the Magician share sly glances before Asra starts to explain.

“The Magician and I wanted to give this to you on your birthday, but Nadia caught wind of what we were planning and convinced us to wait until the masquerade.”

You cross your arms in suspicion. “So I’m about to get a late birthday present? What’s so special that you had to drag me from the party and summon the Magician all the way from their realm?”

The almost identical magicians share another glance, but this one is hesitant. Asra nudges the Magician with his elbow. “Should I ask her or do you want to?”

You look at the Magician. “Ask me what?”

The Magician’s ears twitch in uncertainty. Their overgrown pupils search the carpeted floor for answers.

You hate seeing them so nervous. So you lean forward and take their hands in yours. Due to their otherworldly nature, you can easily feel the pulse of cosmic energy under their glamoured skin.

“You don’t have to be shy around me, Magician. Whether you realize it or not, you’re my friend too. I want to know your thoughts.”

This seems to put them somewhat at ease. Their ears stop twitching, but they flatten them to the side as they look up at you with those glossy purple eyes and say, “MC, I know that I can be a bit mercurial at times, but at the end of the day, I care for Asra. I want to see him happy. And you,” they eased into a smile, “you make him happy. It was only a matter of time before I began to care for you too.” 

You try to thank the Magician, but their face immediately sobers and they start talking fast. 

“And I know I can’t make you happy in all the ways that Asra can, but I would like to try to do so in one of the ways that I know how.”

You want to agree with the Magician, but you’re not really sure you know what you’re agreeing to.

“I . . . I’m not sure what you mean.”

The Magician lets their hands slip away from yours as they turn to hide their ever reddening face. Asra chuckles as he pats them on the back. Then he leans forward.

“What the Magician means is –”

He whispers the rest in your ear. You feel your own eyes widen and your breath catch at the revelation.

The Magician dares a tentative glance in your direction. You are so overcome with excitement and gratitude that all you can do is nod and giggle.

“Yes. Yes. Yes!”

Asra and the Magician share identical grins. You are already trying to get your masquerade costume off, silently cursing Nadia at outfitting you with something so tailored and complicated.

Asra laughs and places a hand on your knee. “MC, slow down. We’ll take care of that. You just relax and tell us what you want.”

You sigh. “Well, that’s kind of awkward.”

The Magician, comfortable now that they have your approval, lifts an eyebrow and suggests, “I can simply read your mind. It’ll make things go a lot smoother.”

You tilt your head, contemplating that option. In the end, you say, “I think I can do this.”

“Right.” Asra, who is clearly past his patience, closes the gap between you and him. “Let’s get started.”

You gently rest your fingers on his chest. He pauses before reaching your lips. 

You can feel your face heating up as you glance in the Magician’s direction. “Let them help you out of your costume, and . . .” your face climbs to a new level of heat, “we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Asra draws back slowly. “Hmph. You adapted pretty quickly.”

You give an innocent shrug, but behind your smile, it’s a different story.

Asra smirks before turning his attention toward the Magician. You’re a little thrown off by how comfortably they regard one another while the Magician works on getting Asra out of his gown.

You lean back on the mound of cushions and watch their intimacy unfold. The Magician leaves soft, lingering kisses at the base of Asra’s neck as they unclasp buttons and loosen the threads holding everything together.

Meanwhile, your hand travels under the high slit in your dress to the warm space between your legs. You’re already wet, but only a little. You try to breathe evenly and not read too much into Asra’s reactions as you tease two fingers in and out.

In what seems like no time at all, Asra’s gown is off and he and the Magician seem to have temporarily forgotten about you. It’s a known fact that Asra takes making out very seriously and when it comes to him, it can become just as intimate as making love.

You don’t mind though. Everything’s better if they don’t realize you’re watching. But it’s when the Magician uncovers Asra’s erection that makes you eager to join the action.

As if sensing your need, the Magician briefly pulls away from Asra and gestures to you. “We are being rotten hosts, Asra. MC wants to play too.”

Asra blinks rapidly, as if waking up from a dream. “MC! I’m so sorry. I just caught up –”

You crawl over to him and silence him with a kiss. The Magician is chuckling merrily in the background. You feel their hands working on getting off your costume now. You and Asra share long, deep kisses while the Magician toils away at the bodice. Soon the materials are sliding down your torso, but you hardly care.

Your breath hitches when something warm and wet latches onto your nipple. You break away from Asra to see the Magician, eyes closed, sucking and gently purring. It makes your head light.

Asra notices your interest in the Magician and encourages you to lie on your back. The Magician hovers over you and cocks their fluffy head to the side.

“I can be whatever you want,” they whisper, scanning your face for some kind of clue. Without speaking, you tentatively reach up and drag your fingertips along their chest. They give you an experimental kiss and your skin tingles as a wave of magic interrupts their glamour for a softer, smoother anatomy. Your fingers register what was once flat, lean muscle now as full and supple flesh. 

But your attention is pulled away from the Magician as Asra draws your knees over his hips and wedges himself inside you. Your body reacts to this sublime level of comfort and fit. Like ribbons unfurling for the first time, you unravel, your arms naturally stretching over your head and your spine arching by a few degrees. 

In your moment of vulnerability, the Magician takes firm hold of your wrists and bends very close to your face. “You still haven’t told me if this is the form you want me to take.”

You take a steadying breath as your eyes coast over the Magician’s soft anatomy.

You bite your lip and nod. 

Asra starts to move inside you.

“Hurry,” you whisper breathlessly, “sit on my face.”

The Magician chuckles as they answer your command. Your lips part as you and tilt your head back to receive them. They tighten their hold on your wrists. The feeling of them restraining you briefly sends your mind to a more primal place. Your eyes flutter shut as you pass your tongue along a set of vertical lips. You give another lick, sucking hard when your teeth catch onto soft meat.

The Magician inhales sharply and lets go of your wrists. They lean back and grab your hair for better control. Your mind sort of blanks as they drop their hips and take a deeper seat on your face. Your hands wander up to their ass, gently encouraging them to make the ride as rough as they want.

“ . . . Damn.”

Asra’s voice. Clearly he likes what he sees.

Your toes curl as he roughly gathers your thighs and eases into a familiar rhythm. You direct your muscles to clench hard and often. But this is difficult when the Magician is practicing their own choreography against your jaw. You do your best to keep up, sucking generously on their clit. Bathing your tongue against the wetter, more sensitive parts. Swallowing. 

You wonder if the Magician knows that their pussy tastes like cosmic foam. That it feels like little galaxies bursting into existence all over your tongue. 

The Magician calls your name. “Are you ready?” They sound delirious and out of breath.

You hum against their pussy. “Ready for what?”

A moan. “This.”

Something happens and your world tilts. 

The tiny galaxies in your mouth seem to expand and swallow you whole. You disappear inside of a black hole and are reborn through the mouth of a white one. You blink to try to clear your vision. Eventually, the disorientation fades. You are back in the cozy chamber. This time you are sitting up and you see...

You see yourself. Lying before you.

The Magician has moved to the side. Once again they are a mirror of Asra’s anatomy, comfortably relaxing back and stroking their own cock.

The other you looks just as disoriented as you feel. That’s when you notice her eyes.

They are purple.

“Asra?” you say, but your voice is not your own. Yet it sounds so familiar. 

Your copycat with the purple eyes glances at the Magician. “Did you just –”

The Magician rolls their eyes and pauses briefly to say, “Yes. I switched you. You better hurry up before the spell wears off.”

Your jaw drops. “I’m in Asra’s body?”

The Magician grins. “You’re welcome.”

Asra and you lock eyes and are barely able to contain your excitement. Without even thinking twice, you flip him over and say, “Let’s try this.”

Asra’s skin shivers in anticipation as he finds himself on his hands and knees. You don’t even think twice as you fit your cock inside of his still ripe pussy. You glide in easily, but... 

“Oh gods.”

Asra turns his face, which looks identical to yours, over his shoulder and says, “Is something wrong?”

You have to fight your eyes from rolling back. “No, no. It’s just . . . tight.”

You almost don’t recognize your own face when Asra gives one of his distinctive smirks.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

You nibble the inside of your cheek and start rocking your hips. All you can manage is a weak, “Mm-hm.”

Soon Asra gets caught up in his own new sensations. Little does he know that you chose this position with the intention of impressing him. The Magician’s soft grunts in the background motivates you to keep thrusting hard and steady into Asra’s warm pussy.

“Hey Magician,” you say, “watch this.”

You reach over just enough to fit your hand around the base of Asra’s neck. Then you whisper, “Bend down. It feels better that way.”

Asra trusts you and sinks his face into the cushions. The deep arch in his spine puts you over the edge. You hold his neck while you fuck him. And while it feels amazing on your end, the real high comes from watching Asra get off. 

“Ngnnnn,” he groans in your voice, unable to form coherent words.

You know all too well how your body reacts to this position combined with the pressure against the back of the neck. But this isn’t even the height of sensation.

It takes absolute focus to thrust, hold Asra down, and feed your other hand down his navel. With your index and ring finger, you spread apart the lips of his pussy. Then you employ your middle finger to engage his clit.

“Ah!” Asra had more to say, but it’s muffled by the cushion.

You bite your lip in concentration, knowing the trick to maximizing this sort of pleasure. Asra, though he has tried in the past, could never really get it right. You understand how featherlight your fingers have to be in contrast to the strength of your thrusts and the secure grip you have on his neck. 

Asra can’t really hold on much longer. 

You feel yourself about to erupt.

But then you are swallowed inside yet another galaxy...

!!!

“Oh. That’s – fuck!”

You receive Asra’s cum in your original body, face down in the cushions. Exactly where you want to be. 

The sudden shift back to your original bodies has momentarily untethered you and Asra from reality. You have no control over your hips as they fight to cling to the sensation. Asra’s behind you, caught in a similar puppetry, locked in a carousel of swearing.

Once again, you detect those tiny pinwheels of light emerging in your core as if some of the Magician’s magic has rubbed off on you.

Eventually, you and Asra are reclaimed by natural laws. That floaty feeling dissolves and you are lying in a heap, sweating and breathing like you nearly drowned. The Magician, who is still jacking off, waits patiently for the two of you to catch your breath.

You’re the one who kisses Asra and says, “I think we should help them out.”

He pushes the damp hair out of your face and presses a sweet kiss to your nose. 

“I agree. And then after that, do you want to . . .”

You interrupt him. “Go home, take a shower and curl up with a cup of tea?”

He playfully bumps his nose against yours. 

The tension between you and him is broken by the presence of a newcomer. You recognize the soft rustle of rich fabrics before you see who they belong to.

“Nadia,” you breathe, relieved that she came to interrupt this increasingly painful conversation.

Her smile is always stunning and you are grateful when she pulls you into one of her most sincere embraces. You can tell by the way she holds you that she knows that you are in distress. But like always, she’s very tactful in her actions.

After letting go, she grants Asra a warm greeting and says, “Asra, I wonder if I might borrow you for a spell.” She gives an imperceptible chuckle at her own joke. “I’m afraid I might have a strange magical anomaly occurring over there by the –” She leads Asra away with ease. He glances back a few times to try to read your face, but you pretend to go back to work, measuring overgrowth in the hedges.

After they have covered a certain distance, you stop miming. You can still see them, but their voices are nothing but muffled cadence patterns faint on the breeze. 

You wander along the bushes, trying not to sulk. Would it be even worth it to spend the rest of the afternoon upset with Asra? Or did you want to go another day suppressing your discomfort with how much he has been away?

You are not brooding for long before you hear the sharp breaking of twigs and the sounds of someone arguing with themselves.

Desperate for some kind of distraction, you peel back a clump of foliage to see a figure too overgrown to be crawling around in such a tight space.

“Oh?” The stranger glances up. “Don’t mind me. I’m just . . .” He looks down at his hands, which are covered in splotchy red rings. That’s when you realize where he’s crouched.

“Don’t move,” you whisper, keeping your gaze locked on his feet. “You’re standing in a patch of trigger toadstool.”

You try to find a safe path for him to step. One wrong move and he could activate a poisonous gas. The stranger’s thighs wobble as he fights to hold his balance. He’s not going to make it. 

You throw yourself forward, seize him by the collar and call upon your magic. The two of you slide through the bushes, passing through every solid surface as if it’s nothing more than an illusion.

When you are a safe distance from the mushrooms, you let your magic drop. 

Then you look up at the idiot you just rescued. 

“Did you just save me from that mushroom? Really, you shouldn’t have.”

His grin is a little too broad and the arch in his brow a bit too high for you to agree with his lighthearted assessment of near death.

You roll to your knees, putting some distance between you and him. While you pick the brambles out of your hair and clothing, you manage to get a read on him.

Spidery limbs, pale skin, and dark auburn hair that, you hate to admit, tumbled in all the right places.

You ask him outright, “Dr. Devorak, right?”

Dusting off his own clothes, he says, “Oh, you can can call me Julian –”

“What are you doing back here . . . in the bushes?”

He lifts a finger. “An excellent question. I was looking for herbs to use in a birthday soup. But that’s not really important right now.” He nearly throws his whole body forward onto his knuckles as he leans in your direction. Studying you with one round, curious gray eye, he says, “Tell me more about you.”

You fight the urge to shrink back. This close, you can smell the combination of black coffee and brine on his breath.

Holding out your hand, you say, “I’m Kipling, the uh . . . royal gardener’s apprentice.”

Julian beams handsomely as he seizes your hand and brings you to a standing position in one swift motion. Once you’re steady on your feet, he lets go. 

“Kipling . . . I don’t suppose you might be willing to lend your botanical expertise to assist me in locating the necessary herbs?”

You ignore how his goofy expression from earlier is suppressed by this new lingering smolder.

You cross your arms. “I’d be willing.”

The swaggering charm slips by a fraction. “Kipling! Where have you been all my life?”

You help Julian, showing him the difference between herbs and poisonous growth. You listen passively while he prattles on about a woman, Mazelinka, and how she deserves the best soup for her birthday. You don’t have to heart to tell him this, but you think it’s going to take a lot more than the right herbs for this mess of a man to figure out how to successfully prepare a meal.

The two of you are on your knees, going through a patch of lemon thyme, when you see Julian plucking yet another poisonous shrub out of the ground.

You snatch it from him. “Julian. Not again. This is poisonous too.”

He huffs, “Honestly, Kips, they all look the same to me.”

You chuckle. “Look, I’ll show you the difference again.”

His brow naturally lifts as you take his hand and guide it over the surface of the shrub. You explain as you lightly brush the fuzzy leaves, “You can tell the difference in the texture.” Then you bring his hand to the herbs. “See how that’s more smooth?”

Julian doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to the plants. His uncovered eye is more focused on you. 

“I think I get it,” he says softly. “Like this?”

He gently plucks the plants away, takes you by your wrists, and draws them up until your palms are resting on his center of his chest.

You swallow as his pectorals flex under your fingers. His hair leaves tiny impressions in your skin as he drags your hands across.

“Rough . . .”

He reaches out and slides his knuckles along your jaw.

“Smooth.”

Your speech abandons you as he draws your hands up again. 

“Right. I went a little too fast. One more time.”

You stifle a giggle as he sweeps your hands over his chest for a second time. Your fingers itch to grasp the collar of his tunic and open it a little wider. But Julian moves too quickly, ducking his head towards your bare shoulder and nuzzling his cheek against your skin.

Your own eyebrow lifts in a silent dare. 

Julian catches on fast. He turns into your shoulder and gives it an experimental kiss.

“Smooth?” You whisper.

His eye contact doesn’t waver as his mouth finds the spot again.

“Mmm. Very.”

His lips climb up your neck, activating your senses in a way that hasn’t happened for some time now.

“Dr. Devorak, are you becoming well acquainted with my gardener?”

Nadia’s husky purr makes you both startle. You look sheepishly up at her and Asra, who doesn’t meet your eyes, but looks cold and distant all the same. 

Julian is unruffled as he hauls you back onto your feet. “Oh yes, we were looking for herbs for Mazelinka’s birthday soup.”

Asra smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Was Kipling helpful?”

“Oh, she definitely was.” Julian looks at you, his gaze lingering perhaps longer than necessary.

You tear your eyes away from Julian and try again to meet Asra’s. His gaze is unreadable, but you have no doubt that he saw most of your exchanges with the doctor. Part of you is not upset that he had, but now was not the best time to go rocking the boat.

Your concerns dissolve when Asra suddenly reaches for you and pulls you against his chest. With apparently no concern for Nadia or Julian, he gathers you in his arms. Then he kisses you like . . . like there was no one else around. 

When Asra shows no sign of slowing down, you surrender to his untethered kiss and lose yourself in the moment. 

Somewhere in the background, Julian clears his throat and Nadia gives a throaty chuckle. But none of that matters when Asra’s holds you so tightly, you’re convinced your feet have left the ground.

When he pulls away, you still feel like you’re floating.

“Join me for a bath?”

Remembering who was standing mere feet away, you feel your face burn. Once again, this was so unlike Asra. It was no secret that you two were together, but he was usually more private about your personal affairs. 

He watches you expectantly, but you can’t help glancing around at your unmoving audience. Nadia is quiet, yet very clearly enjoying herself. Julian, who only moments ago had no idea who you were, gawks on, his gaze swinging from Asra to you and back again.

“Kipling?” Asra nudges you with his forehead. His fluffy mop tickles you and draws your focus back to him.

You feel your face heat up as you say barely above a whisper, “Yes. Let’s . . . take a bath.”

You don’t have a chance to say goodbye to Nadia or Julian as Asra pulls you away. 

Behind you, Nadia says to Julian, “Digging through my gardens again, doctor?”

“I know. I know. I said I would never do it again, but this time it’s different. It’s for birthday soup!”

There was a pause. And then, “Doctor, you have exactly forty-five seconds to leave before I call Chandra to escort you out.”

Asra bursts into infectious laughter as he continues to lead you towards the palace. You can’t help but laugh too. When you both come down from it, you ask, “Asra, does this mean you’re staying?”

He smiles as he shakes his head. “No. I told you. I have to leave tonight.”

You feel that familiar pang of disappointment.

Then Asra says, “But this time I’m bringing you with me.”

Your heart lifts as you tackle him in your own wild embrace. 

“What made you change your mind?”

Asra presses his lips to your forehead. A laugh comes through in his kiss.