#selfless

It's rare to find a heart that will look at yours and wish to love it as they would their own. - Words by Jen ©️

If we care for others but are not detached, we might try to use them for our own happiness. We risk adding to their suffering instead of helping to relieve it.

To cradle another being with our attention, fully considering their needs beyond our own preferences, we cannot remain attached to our personal desires or opinions.

As long as compassionate activity is self-referencing, it remains incomplete.

Complete your compassion through detachment and you will understand the true meaning of selflessness: freeing others from the burden of your happiness.

[Disclaimer: this is NOT a post for Orihime and IchiHime fans, so I suggest you spare your fragile heart the trouble and skip it. If you’re not content with what you read, just block and move on, that’s easy. With that said, off we go.] Today, I saw Ichihime stans (them again, how surprising 🙃) claiming that Ichigo and Orihime are the two characters that want to protect people the most. The exact words were:

“The detail is that Ichigo and Orihime are the ones who most strongly represent the desire to protect others, there is no one in Bleach who has a desire as great as them and that is why they complement each other personally”

I laughed out loud because while I agree with Ichigo (his name and the whole story makes it pretty clear from the start anyways), what on earth is Inoue doing here?! Some of her fans really don’t know what to invent anymore to give her the importance she doesn’t have 🙄.

Orihime is absolutely not presented as someone whose ultimate goal is to protect others. Ichigo and Uryū are. And it’s not even a debate, it’s plainly shown multiple times in the manga.

Regarding Ichigo, he isn’t introduced as wanting to protect everyone at the very start (though, beating the guys who knocked over the vases with the flowers of the dead girl is somehow a hint of his future status as a protector, I guess?). Once he meets Rukia, he starts by saying he’s not the type to let people die without doing nothing, until it turns into a wish of protecting not just his family circle but “a mountain of people” by the time he meets Uryū (he even tells him so).

Uryū, in a flashback, is shown wanting to protect all people from Hollows from a very early age (you can even say he wanted to protect people before Ichigo (who needed a push from Rukia) did.).

“bUt UrYū PuT tHe WhOlE tOwN iN dAnGeR iN tHe FiRsT ArC”

1 – The bait wasn’t supposed to attract so many Hollows. It is explained later it was Aizen’s fault. If he hadn’t intervened, Uryū would have dealt with them without problems.

2 – Uryū knew about Orihime and Chad having spiritual energy, so it’s logical to suppose he thought they would find a way to deal with them. Or that he thought Ichigo would come to help them. In any case, it sure wasn’t Uryū’s best idea, I’ll grant you that. But it’s not like he started that competition with the goal to hurt them. Plus, what about Ichigo? He never worried about them (okay, he didn’t know they had spiritual energy, but still).

3 – The Hollow competition diminishes in nothing Uryū’s resolve to save people, in fact it has nothing to do with it, as Uryū stated he would not let a single hollow hurt the citizens. The beef he had was with Ichigo and more largely Shinigami. It didn’t affect his will to protect. This will is strong, and Ichigo having the same ideals, it explains why they bound and became friends this fast.

Now, about Orihime. When did she ever start to say her goal was to protect others? She didn’t, actually. Because it was never the case.

When Rukia was kidnapped, she tried to “convince” Ichigo not to go rescue her (some might say she was “““encouraging him”””… But she did so in such a weird way, it was awkward at best), and when she finally went to Soul Society, was it to save Rukia? No, absolutely not, it was just because of her crush for Kurosaki.

(Let’s be real, Ichigo and Uryū were the only ones who wanted to save Kuchiki because that’s??? the decent thing to do??? while Chad and Inoue did not care about her safety at all. I wonder how poor Rukia would react if she had known at the time (and Chad saying before they leave Uryū is the weakest of them all really makes me dislike him, especially as Chad almost always lost his fights and Uryū was more skilled than them)).

Also, I have to highlight a fact I feel no one ever talks about, but that still strikes me, though.

Who, in the seventeen months timeskip, took it upon himself to protect the city while Ichigo was without powers? Spoiler, it’s not Inoue or Chad.

It’s Uryū, again.

And not only that, but neither Orihime nor Sado left a single finger to help him during that time. Yet they had their powers, so where were they? Because when Ichigo is here, they sure have no problems coming to help him:

The fact that, in the Fullbring Arc, Ichigo himself didn’t ask Orihime and Chad to take care of the Hollows while Uryū was in the hospital (instead asking Uryū how they were gonna do with him incapacitated, as if they didn’t have two other friends, hello?), shows how little faith he has in their capacities. None of the two even suggested to help. It could have been a moment of growth, showing they exist outside of Ichigo for once, but no. Even though they were “training” (all that to be brainwashed by Tsukishima in the end, cough cough) the least they could have done was to offer their help to Uryū to protect the town (it’s also their own???). That’s what real friends do. But there was not Ichigo, so they didn’t feel concern, I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️.

And after that, I’m supposed to believe Orihime represents the desire to protect everyone? 😂 Lol, you’re kidding me. She just wants to protect Ichigo and nobody else. When he’s not involved, she just doesn’t seem to care, and Chad is no better. If I remember correctly, part of her went to Hueco Mundo because she wanted to see if Ichigo would rescue her like he did with Kuchiki? She was jealous of Rukia and Nel? But wow, what an amazing portrayal of the desire to protect everyone indeed!

Let’s be clear: I’m not saying Orihime isn’t nice. She is. But is she as selfless or altruistic as some fans makes her out to be? No, she absolutely isn’t. Being nice is different from being selfless/altruistic. Uryū and Rukia are the ones who are the most selfless with a strong sense of abnegation: Rukia in the first arc when she goes back to the Soul Society with Byakuya and Renji in order to protect Ichigo even though she knows she’s likely to be executed for her crime, and Uryū in the last arc when he plans on destroying the Wahrwelt with him inside in order to save everyone, even though he has to become a “traitor” to his friends. Oh yeah, and this boy also sacrificed his powers during the Soul Society Arc, with the aim to protect, again.

You can even put Masaki in there with what she did for Isshin and Ichigo (this is why I can’t stand people saying Orihime ressembles Masaki, because this is blatantly wrong, they’re nothing alike). Her speech to Ryūken before going to rescue Isshin underlines her strong will, which Orihime doesn’t possess and never will.

Now, tell me, when did Orihime put her life on the line for Ichigo like Masaki, Rukia or Uryū did? Because I can’t remember a single moment when she was ready to sacrifice anything for him while she’s supposed to “love” him. She always ended up relying on Ichigo in the end while claiming she didn’t want to be a burden to him (and failing spectacularly each time), and the one time she actually “fights alongside him” (lol), they lose.

This is what true selflessness is like – putting others before yourself:

Certainly not this:

With that, I rest my case.

[Edit 16/08/2025:

I said on X how some IH fans claimed Orihime represents the desire to protect the most when it isn’t true, and how she has flaws, and someone said:

“But that's not a claim; it's literally in the manga. She also stated her desire to protect others, not just Ichi, and forgave people like Ulq despite his actions; she even healed Harribel despite protests from Renji & Rukia. I don't ship IH btw

”

Reading this, I really needed to react to it here. I didn’t answer to that person because it would surely turn into endless debates. Also, the “I don’t ship IH btw”, hmm…

I mustn't have explained myself clearly then. I don’t say Orihime has 0 desire to protect, that would be utterly nonsensical. What I mean is that she doesn’t represent that desire the most strongly. Other characters (such as Rukia and Uryū, as I said above) are shown to represent that desire more than her.

“it's literally in the manga. She also stated her desire to protect others, not just Ichi”

Okay, the one with Tatsuki is a fair point, I’ll grant you that. And, to be honest, I would have wanted to see more of that Orihime ready to throw hands at her enemies, cause this scene shows she’s capable of it. Right, she said she will protect Tatsuki, okay (that must be the only scene when she openly states she wants to protect someone else than Ichigo by the way).

However, when you look at it, the “I’ll protect Tatsuki” is quickly followed by the “to protect Kurosaki” scene when Yoruichi asks them their reasons to go to Soul Society. Pay attention to how she doesn’t even say “to protect my friends”, but “Kurosaki” specifically, as if Chad and Uryū don’t matter. See the difference?

Also, funny to mention Tatsuki when Orihime doesn’t even spare her her last goodbye before going to Hueco Mundo. Again, she picked up a guy she doesn’t know very much instead of her best friend who helped her when she was bullied and has protected her for years…

But I digress.

“and forgave people like Ulq despite his actions”

Okay, and? What is the point? We’re talking about Orihime’s desire to protect and if she’s the one who symbolizes that the best. What is the fact that she forgives Ulquiorra doing here? I fail to see how it has something to do with the whole desire thing. Unless it’s more an argument to the fact I said she has flaws? But then again, I never said Orihime isn’t forgiving or only has flaws. She does have qualities, I’m not denying that, but the fact that she forgives Ulquiorra changes nothing to the fact that she still has flaws (one of her main one probably being her jealousy). So I don’t really understand your point here.

“she even healed Harribel despite protests from Renji & Rukia”

Uh, I don’t remember that. I take it it must be in one of the novels? Which one, I don’t know, and it doesn’t really matter, as the novels weren’t written by Kubo himself.

Anyway, again, what does the fact that she heals Harribel have to do with the desire to protect? Of course Inoue isn’t going to let her die. She has even shown compassion to ennemies who beat her up. It’s in her character. Does it mean it’s enough to acknowledge “Wow, this girl clearly wants to save everyone, and absolutely no one in the whole stories represents this better!”? Well no, I don’t think so.

Moving on to the third picture where Orihime is in Hueco Mundo with Chad. She… isn’t even protecting/helping anyone? They are training. Ichigo fought Quilge to free the Arrancars, all Orihime really did was shield Nel, and even then Quilge disintegrated her shield, but if you really want it, yes, I’ll give you the fact she protected Nelliel, okay. But she didn’t do really more than that.

Also. Why are Orihime and Chad in Hueco Mundo in the first place? Because Ichigo went there, that’s all. Now, imagine that, for one reason or another, Ichigo couldn’t go to Hueco Mundo to help the Arrancars. Do you honestly think Orihime and Chad would have gone there to help without him? Of course they wouldn’t have. After they know the situation, they just say “Ichigo, you’re gonna go help them, right? 🥺”, implying that if Ichi doesn’t, they won’t either. So, yes, Orihime can have this “we help Arrancars and Soul Reapers” speech, the truth is that it’s more complex than that (and if she really wanted to help, why didn’t she stay with the Fourth Division and help heal the soul reapers that were hurt by the Quincies?)

I’ll repeat myself, but I can’t stress enough how Orihime didn’t help Uryū for the seventeenth month Ichigo was depowered, while it would have only been logical and be a good argument in favor of her protecting others because that’s what she wants to do. Instead, she said she “trained”… for Ichigo.

Part 1: here

Part 2: here

Part 3: here

Part 10: Ryan's Decision and Initial Integration

Ethan lounged on the worn leather couch in their cozy Seaside living room, the salty ocean breeze filtering through the open window. His fingers danced across the keyboard of his laptop, scrolling through the familiar threads of the masking forum where it all began. Jacob sat beside him, their identical bodies—now perfectly aligned through surgery—pressed close, their implanted mind bands humming with shared thoughts. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the kind where the line between them blurred even without masks.

"Look at this one," Ethan said, his voice—slightly deeper than Jacob's had been before the vocal adjustments—carrying a hint of excitement. He pointed to a post from a user named "AquaDom." The avatar showed a sleek, athletic figure in a wetsuit, water droplets glistening on toned muscles. "He's from Portland, not too far. Says he's into full immersion suits and has a thing for dom-sub dynamics. Loves swimming, too—could be fun to incorporate that."

Jacob leaned in, his hazel eyes scanning the screen. Their surgeries had made them indistinguishable: both just under 6 feet, with medium builds that were athletic but not bulky, dark blond hair styled the same, and faces that blended their original features into a harmonious whole. Subdermal anchors dotted their skin, invisible but ready for layering silicone perfection.

"Sounds promising," Jacob replied, his timbre now perfectly synced with Ethan's. Through the mind band, Ethan felt Jacob's arousal flicker, a warm pulse in his own thoughts. "Message him? See if he's up for a visit?"

Ethan nodded, typing quickly. "Hey AquaDom, love your posts on those aquatic suits. We're a couple in Seaside—BitMask and Fl3shM4ker. We've got some advanced tech here if you're interested in a real-life session. No pressure, just exploring."

They hit send and waited. The response came within minutes.

"AquaDom: BitMask and Fl3shM4ker? Legends! I'm Ryan. Portland's close—I'd love to chat more. What's the vibe you're thinking?"

And so it began. Over the next few days, messages flew back and forth. Ryan was 32, a graphic designer by day and an avid swimmer, hitting the pools and open water whenever he could. His physique was close to theirs—5'11", 170 pounds, with a swimmer's build: broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, defined but not overly muscular arms and legs from endless laps, smooth chest with just a hint of definition, and abs that showed when he flexed. His hair was light brown, cut short and often tousled from water, and his eyes were a striking blue, framed by faint laugh lines. He had a boyish charm, with a straight nose, full lips, and a jawline that was strong but not sharp.

They learned his kinks aligned intriguingly: he craved domination and submission play, occasionally switching but leaning primarily toward sub headspace, and had a collection of anal toys he incorporated into his solo masking sessions. He'd created a few basic masks himself—mostly foam latex—but admired their work and dreamed of hyper-realistic integration.

After a week of texting, they moved to video calls. Ryan appeared on screen in a tight tank top, his blue eyes widening as he saw their identical faces. "Whoa, you two are… twins? The forum legends are even hotter in person."

Ethan chuckled, Jacob's amusement echoing in his mind. "Not exactly twins, but close enough now. We've… converged."

They flirted, shared fantasies. Ryan described a session where he'd worn a rudimentary merman suit, tail and all, submitting to an imaginary dom in the pool. Ethan and Jacob shared glimpses of their merged life, hinting at the mind bands without full reveal.

"Want to come visit?" Jacob asked during their third call. "We can show you some of our setups. No commitments—just fun."

Ryan's eyes lit up. "Hell yes. Next weekend?"

He arrived on a Friday evening, pulling up in a beat-up Subaru, duffel bag in hand. Ryan stepped out, wearing jeans and a hoodie that hugged his swimmer's frame. Up close, his light brown hair caught the fading sunlight, and his blue eyes sparkled with nervous excitement. He was slightly shorter than them, but his build was compatible—broad shoulders from freestyle strokes, toned legs from kicks, and a subtle V-shape to his torso.

"Hey, guys," Ryan said, extending a hand. His grip was firm, calluses from pool edges rough against their smooth palms. "Ryan. This is surreal."

"Ethan," Ethan said, then gestured. "Jacob. Come in."

They led him inside, the house smelling of fresh-baked bread—Jacob's hobby. Over dinner—grilled salmon and salads—they talked mundanely at first: Ryan's love for open-water swims, his graphic design gigs for local bands and coffee shops.

But the fetish talk crept in. "Show me your workshop?" Ryan asked, eyes eager.

Jacob led the way to the studio, lined with molds, silicone mixes, and half-finished suits. Ryan's fingers traced a youthful blue-collar-type mask, hyper-realistic with individual hairs punched in.

"This is incredible," Ryan breathed. "I've only dreamed of this level."

"Try it on," Ethan suggested, mind pulsing with Jacob's approval.

Ryan hesitated, then nodded. He shucked his hoodie—revealing smooth, tanned skin from outdoor swims—and slipped the mask over his head. It fit decently, the silicone molding to his features. He adjusted it, and suddenly a burly voice emerged: "Howdy, fellas. Name's Buck."

They laughed, but the play escalated. Jacob donned a similar mask—a stern foreman—and Ethan watched, arousal building. Ryan, as Buck, submitted playfully, dropping to his knees.

"Orders, boss?" Ryan growled in character.

Jacob commanded him to strip fully, revealing Ryan's cock—average length, thick, uncut, hardening under their gaze. They didn't touch yet, but the verbal play had them all breathing heavy.

After, unmasked, they sat upstairs, beers in hand. "That was intense," Ryan admitted. "You two… there's something more, isn't there? Like you're in sync."

They exchanged glances, mind bands sharing the decision. "We have implants," Ethan explained. "Mind implants. They sync our thoughts, emotions, and… other things."

Ryan's blue eyes widened. "No way. That's… on a different level."

The weekend unfolded in layers of play. Saturday, they took Ryan to a private beach cove, where he swam naked, his powerful strokes cutting the waves while Ethan and Jacob watched and fantasized. Back home, they introduced bodysuits. Jacob helped Ryan into a sleek diver suit—silicone skin with embedded fins, masking his face as a mysterious ocean explorer.

The bodysuit was a masterpiece of Jacob’s craftsmanship, a full-body silicone shell, breathable and seamless, designed to feel like a second skin. It clung to Ryan’s swimmer’s frame, enhancing his broad shoulders and tapering waist with subtle muscle definition, sculpting his pecs and abs to appear more pronounced without losing his natural athleticism. The suit darkened his fair skin to a deep, sun-kissed tan, mimicking hours under tropical rays. Tiny embedded sensors, woven into the silicone, amplified tactile sensations—every touch, every brush of fabric or skin, sent heightened signals to his nerves. The mask portion transformed his face entirely: jovial cheeks, a chiseled jaw that exuded quiet confidence, and dark, slicked-back hair that glistened as if perpetually wet from a dive. Green contact lenses, integrated into the mask, replaced his striking blue eyes, giving him an enigmatic, oceanic gaze. The suit’s lower half included a fitted sheath for his cock, designed to enhance its outline without restricting movement, and a discreet access point at the rear for intimate play. Every seam was bonded with Jacob’s bio-adhesive, making the suit imperceptible even under close scrutiny.

Ethan and Jacob suited up as fellow explorers, their own transformations no less meticulous. Ethan’s rugged captain suit gave him a weathered, authoritative air: a broader chest, salt-and-pepper stubble across a square jaw, and deep-set brown eyes that commanded respect. Jacob’s lithe first mate suit was sleeker, emphasizing agility with a leaner build, sun-bleached blond hair, and a mischievous smirk. Their suits, bonded via their permanent subdermal anchors, moved as naturally as their own skin, the embedded sensors syncing with their mind bands to share fleeting pulses of arousal and anticipation.

The role-play began in the living room, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. Ryan, fully immersed as the ocean explorer, stood with a confident swagger, his green eyes glinting under the mask. “Captain,” he said, his voice husky, modulated slightly by the suit’s internal filters to sound deeper, more resonant, “the depths call. We diving or what?”

Ethan, as the captain, stepped forward, his presence commanding. “Not yet, diver,” he said, circling Ryan slowly, inspecting the suit’s fit. “Need to make sure you’re ready for the mission.” His hand grazed Ryan’s shoulder, the sensors amplifying the touch, sending a shiver through both their mind bands.

Jacob, as the first mate, leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his smirk widening. “He looks ready to me, Cap. Maybe too ready.” He stepped closer, trailing a finger down Ryan’s chest, the silicone relaying the sensation with electric clarity. Ryan’s breath hitched, his cock twitching beneath the suit’s sheath.

“Prove it,” Ethan ordered, his voice low, authoritative. “On your knees, diver.”

Ryan dropped instantly, the role-play pulling him deep into submission. “Yes, sir,” he murmured, his modulated voice trembling with excitement. He knelt, head bowed, the suit’s sensors making every shift of his body feel magnified.

Jacob knelt beside him, whispering, “Good boy.” He reached into Ryan’s duffel, pulling out one of Ryan’s favorite toys—a thick, vibrating plug, sleek and black, designed for deep stimulation. “Brought your gear, I see. Let’s make use of it.”

Ryan’s green eyes flicked up, a mix of nervousness and desire. “Please,” he said, staying in character. “Prepare me for the dive, sir.”

Ethan watched, his own arousal spiking through the mind band, Jacob’s mirroring it. Jacob lubed the plug with slow, deliberate movements, teasing Ryan’s entrance through the suit’s access point. “Relax,” Jacob murmured, easing the toy in, inch by inch. Ryan gasped, his body arching, the sensors amplifying the stretch and vibration. His cock strained against the suit, the sheath outlining every pulse.

“Fuck,” Ryan groaned, his voice a mix of his own and the explorer’s, the mask’s filters blending them seamlessly. His hands gripped the floor, knuckles whitening as Jacob worked the toy deeper, the vibrations pulsing in rhythm with Ryan’s quickening breaths.

Ethan stepped closer, unzipping his captain’s suit to reveal his own hardening cock. He tilted Ryan’s chin up, the mask’s green eyes meeting his. “Open,” he commanded. Ryan obeyed, lips parting, and Ethan slid in, slow at first, letting Ryan adjust. The suit’s mouth was soft, pliable, designed for this, and Ryan’s tongue worked eagerly, drawing a low moan from Ethan.

Jacob increased the toy’s vibrations, syncing his movements with Ethan’s thrusts. Their mind bands wove their pleasure together—Ethan’s dominance, Jacob’s control, Ryan’s submission blending into a shared crescendo. Ryan moaned around Ethan’s cock, the sound muffled but desperate, his body trembling as the plug hit his prostate.

“Take it all,” Jacob said, his voice edged with authority, his hand guiding the toy with precision. Ryan’s moans grew louder, his body rocking between them, the suit’s sensors pushing him to the edge.

They climaxed in a tangled rush—Ryan first, his cock pulsing within the suit, semen trapped by an integrated sheath; Ethan next, spilling into Ryan’s mouth, the mask’s lips sealing tight; Jacob last, grinding against Ryan’s back, his own release soaking the first mate suit. They collapsed together, panting, the room filled with the scent of sweat and silicone.

After, they peeled off the suits slowly, the bio-adhesive releasing gently. Ryan’s real face emerged, flushed, his blue eyes bright with post-orgasm clarity. They sprawled on the couch, beers in hand, the ocean breeze cooling their skin.

“That was unreal,” Ryan said, his Pacific Northwest lilt soft, genuine. “The suits, the way you two move together… it’s like you’re one person.”

Ethan and Jacob exchanged a glance, their mind bands sharing a quiet agreement. “We kind of are,” Ethan said, leaning back. “The mind bands link us—thoughts, feelings, everything. We’ve gone further than most.”

Jacob nodded, his hand resting on Ethan’s thigh. “We’ve had surgeries to align our bodies and faces. Made us… converge. It’s intense, but it’s us.”

Ryan’s eyes widened, a mix of awe and curiosity. “You mean you’re physically the same now? Like, identical?”

“Down to the last detail,” Jacob said, a smile tugging at his lips. “It lets the masks and suits feel… complete. Like we’re not just playing a role, but becoming it.”

Ryan sipped his beer, processing. “That’s wild. I’ve always wanted to push my masking further, but this… it’s another level. Have you ever thought about bringing someone else in?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with possibility. Ethan felt Jacob’s pulse of excitement through the mind band, mirroring his own. “We have,” Ethan said carefully. “Someone whose body is close enough, whose kinks align. Someone who’d want to merge, like we have.”

Jacob leaned forward, his brown eyes locked on Ryan’s blue ones. “Your physique is close, Ryan. Your build is close enough to ours. And your interests…” He trailed off, letting the implication linger.

Ryan’s breath caught, his fingers tightening around the bottle. “You’re saying… join you? Like, become part of this… triad?”

Ethan nodded, his voice steady but warm. “It’d mean surgeries—aligning your face, body, and voice to ours. Implanting a mind band to sync us all. You’d bring your own self into it—your swimming, your kinks, everything. We’d be three, but also… one.”

Ryan set his beer down, his expression shifting from shock to intrigue. “That’s insane,” he said, but there was no rejection in his tone. “I’d need to think about it. It’s a lot—giving up parts of myself, but… also gaining something bigger.”

“Take your time,” Jacob said, his hand squeezing Ethan’s, their minds aligned. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Sunday morning, they took Ryan to the same private cove. He swam naked, his powerful strokes cutting through the cold Pacific waves, his body a blur of strength and grace. Ethan and Jacob watched from the shore, their mind bands sharing a quiet hope layered over their arousal. Ryan emerged, water streaming down his tanned skin, his blue eyes bright against the gray sky.

Back at the house, they sat in the kitchen, coffee steaming. Ryan’s hair was still damp, his hoodie clinging to his shoulders. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. “What you’re offering… it’s crazy, but it’s also everything I’ve fantasized about. The suits, the connection, the merging. I want in.”

Part 11: The Surgical Transition

The drive to San Francisco was filled with an electric mix of anticipation and nerves. Ethan gripped the steering wheel of the rented SUV, his identical hazel eyes flicking to the rearview mirror where Jacob and Ryan sat in the back seat, hands intertwined. It had been only a month since they extended the offer to Ryan—after weeks of intense forum chats turning into video calls, then in-person visits where the chemistry ignited like wildfire. Ryan, with his athletic swimmer's build, close enough to their own converged physiques, had jumped at the chance. "I want this," he'd said during their last night in Portland, bodies entangled in a heated threesome. "To merge with you two… it's my ultimate fantasy."

Now, as the Golden Gate Bridge loomed ahead, Jacob leaned forward, resting a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "You okay up there, love?"

Ethan nodded, smiling. "Yeah. Just thinking about how far we've come. And now, bringing Ryan in… it's going to change everything, in the best way."

Ryan squeezed Jacob's hand, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can't wait. To look like you guys, feel what you feel… and that mind-band implant? Permanent link? Fuck, it's hot."

They laughed, the sound harmonious, their voices already similar in timbre after practice sessions where Ryan mimicked their converged tones. The clinic in San Francisco was a new one—Dr. Voss had recommended Dr. Lena Marquez, a specialist in neural integrations, after hearing about their plans for a triad. "She's the best for implant work," Voss had said in an encrypted call. "And she understands… discretion."

Arriving at the clinic, a discreet building in the hills overlooking the bay, they were ushered into a private waiting area. Dr. Marquez, a poised woman in her forties with sharp features and a calm demeanor, greeted them with handshakes. "Ethan, Jacob, Ryan. I've reviewed your files. This convergence will be seamless, given how close Ryan's baseline is to your shared form."

They sat around a holographic display projecting 3D models of their bodies. Ryan's current stats: 5'11", 168 pounds, lean from swimming, with light brown hair and blue eyes. "We'll align you fully," Marquez explained. "Bone adjustments for exact facial harmony—minimal, since your structures are similar. Muscle implants to match their 172-pound athletic build. Hair follicular implants to lighten to dark blond. We'll do for you what we did with Ethan and darken your irises via dye. Subdermal anchors throughout, identical to theirs. And the neural mind-band: An upgraded implant, embedded in the brain's frontal lobe, linking you three permanently via quantum entanglement tech. Thoughts, emotions, sensations—shared in real-time, adjustable intensity."

Ryan's breath hitched. "All of it. Let's do it." Surgery was scheduled for the next day, with Ethan and Jacob assisting in recovery.

That night in their hotel suite, tension built. "One last night as 'me'," Ryan said, stripping slowly. Ethan and Jacob watched, aroused.

"Come here," Ethan commanded, pulling Ryan into a kiss. Jacob joined, hands roaming Ryan's body. "Tomorrow, you'll be us."

They moved to the bed, a tangle of limbs. Ryan, true to his kinks, whispered, "Work me over tonight. Use me. Make me feel like I'm submitting to this hive mind."

Jacob grinned, fetching the bag. "As you wish."

Ethan pinned Ryan face-down, wrists bound with soft cuffs. Jacob lubed a vibrating anal plug, inserting it slowly. "Feel that?"

Ryan moaned, arching. "Yes… more." The plug buzzed, sending waves through him.

Jacob smacked Ryan on the ass. "Do not tell us what to do, boy. We will tell you what you can feel, and when." He repeated the smack several times, leaving a bright red mark.

Ethan entered Ryan's mouth, thrusting. Gently at first, he started to build up a rhythm. "Good boys take their masters' cocks. Service me, boy." Ryan whimpered and sucked in earnest, slicking up Ethan's cock with his mouth, working to bring Ethan pleasure.

As the moment began to feel comfortable, Ethan and Jacob exchanged a glance and a mental pulse. Ethan pulled out of Ryan's mouth and Jacob retracted the plug from Ryan's ass, only to replace it with his own cock, hard and leaking from watching their third suck his husband. As Jacob fucked Ryan, Ethan took the plug Jacob had used on Ryan and began to insert it into Jacob's ass, moans filling the room. Ryan's submission fueling their dominance.

As they drove toward a climax, they cascaded together, breathing as one. Panting, they uncuffed Ryan. "Tomorrow," Ryan whispered, "we'll feel each other's orgasms."

Ethan squeezed Jacob's cock. "Bet on it."

Morning brought pre-op jitters. In the clinic, as Ryan changed into a gown, Ethan and Jacob held his hands. "We love you," Jacob said, kissing him.

Ethan nodded. "See you on the other side—as one of us." In the OR, anesthesia flowed. Ryan drifted off.

Dr. Marquez began with neural implant. The mind-band chip, a tiny quantum device, was inserted into the frontal lobe, wires threading to connect with neural pathways. Electrodes fused to synapses for thought transmission and the hole was closed with bio-sealant, speeding recovery.

The physical changes were no less invasive: skin elevated where the hairline was raised; jaw osteotomy to match the converged jawline; nose refined, bridge heightened slightly; cheek implants inserted intraorally, lifting to match the height of Ethan and Jacob's cheeks; lips filled for plumpness. Eyes received their dye, hair follicles were implanted across Ryan's scalp for even dark blond coverage, and liposuction was performed on minimal fat areas, defining Ryan's abs further. Muscle enhancements were implanted in Ryan's pecs, shoulders, and arms, their incisions hidden in creases, gels integrating with tissue. Lastly, the subdermal anchors were placed, embedding pins for perfect mask and suit bonding.

Ryan woke in recovery, his head wrapped in bandages, body aching under a thin hospital blanket. Ethan and Jacob sat on either side of the bed, their identical faces etched with worry and love, hands clasped together across his lap. The room was sterile but warm, the hum of medical equipment a soft undercurrent to their quiet breathing.

"Hey, guys," Ryan croaked, his voice hoarse from intubation. His eyes, still adjusting, blinked slowly. "How’d it go?"

Dr. Marquez stepped in, her clipboard glowing with vitals. "Perfectly, Ryan. The neural implant is in place, and all physical adjustments are complete. The mind connection will activate in phases over the next few days to prevent overload. Rest now, and let Ethan and Jacob take care of you."

Ethan squeezed Ryan’s hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles. "You’re already one of us. Just wait till you see yourself."

Jacob leaned in, kissing Ryan’s bandaged forehead lightly. "We felt you, even during surgery. A flicker of your thoughts. It’s… incredible."

Ryan managed a weak smile, feeling a faint buzz in his mind—not fully formed thoughts, but a whisper of their presence: Relief. Love. Excitement. "Turn it up?" he murmured, half-joking.

Marquez chuckled. "Not yet. Your brain needs to acclimate. By tomorrow, you’ll feel more."

The first day was a haze of rest, IV drips delivering pain meds and fluids. Swelling was at its peak, Ryan’s face puffy under the bandages, his body sore from the incisions and implants. Ethan and Jacob took turns staying by his side, one always present while the other grabbed coffee or food from the clinic’s cafeteria. They fed him broth with a spoon, their movements tender, their voices low and soothing.

"You’re doing great," Ethan said, wiping a dribble from Ryan’s chin. "I can feel your stubbornness already, pushing through the pain."

Ryan’s lips twitched. "You’re one to talk. I bet you were a terrible patient."

Jacob laughed softly, sitting cross-legged on the chair. "He was. Complained about the bandages itching the whole time."

Their banter eased Ryan’s discomfort, and by evening, the mind connection began to transmit more distinctly. Ethan and Jacob felt it first—a trickle of Ryan’s thoughts, clear as a bell: Sore as hell, but so happy. I love them. It was like a warm wave washing over them, their own emotions echoing back: pride, affection, anticipation.

"Whoa," Ethan said, eyes wide. "That was you, Ry. Clear as day."

Jacob nodded, his hand on Ryan’s arm. "I felt your pain, too. It’s faint, but it’s there. Like a shared pulse."

Ryan’s heart raced, the monitor beeping slightly faster. "It’s real. We’re linking."

"Build tolerance first," Marquez reminded them during her evening check-in. "The band’s at 20% capacity. We’ll ramp up slowly."

By the second day, Ryan could sit up, though his movements were cautious. The swelling began to subside, revealing glimpses of his new face—cheeks higher, jaw stronger, lips fuller. The mirror was still off-limits, but he traced his fingers over the bandages, imagining the converged features that would match Ethan and Jacob’s. The mind-band strengthened to 40%, and emotions flowed more freely. Ryan’s desire hit them suddenly, a vivid image: Water, cool and endless, swimming free. It was so strong that Ethan found himself flexing his shoulders, as if ready to dive in.

"Damn, Ry," Ethan said, laughing. "I’m ready to jump in the bay right now."

Ryan grinned, wincing slightly. "Soon. I need to feel that water on my new skin."

Jacob’s eyes softened. "We’ll make it happen. Promise."

On the third day, the bandages came off. Dr. Marquez guided Ryan to a mirror in the recovery suite, Ethan and Jacob flanking him. As the last gauze fell, Ryan stared at his reflection: a face identical to his lovers’. Strong, refined jaw; straight nose; full lips; hazel eyes framed by dark blond hair. His body, too, was transformed—lean muscle, shoulders broadened, abs defined, anchors invisible under smooth skin.

"Holy shit," Ryan whispered, turning his head to see every angle. "I’m… us."

Ethan’s hand found his, their fingers interlocking. "You’re perfect."

Jacob traced Ryan’s new jawline, his touch reverent. "Welcome to the trinity."

The mind connection, now at 60%, flooded them with shared awe. Ryan’s thought echoed: This is me now. Us. Their emotions intertwined—joy, love, a hint of arousal at the sight of their matched forms.

"Let’s try a light masking," Ethan suggested that evening, his voice low with excitement. "Ease you into it, Ry."

They had brought a small case of masks, including one of Ryan’s old face—light brown hair, blue eyes—for nostalgia, but they opted for simpler personas to start. Ryan chose a swimmer mask: tanned, youthful, with a short-cropped haircut, designed to test the subdermal anchors. Ethan and Jacob selected matching coach masks—older, authoritative faces with weathered lines, exuding dominance.

In the suite’s bathroom, they helped Ryan align the swimmer mask. The silicone was warm, pliable, its inner surface lined with bio-adhesive that bonded to the anchors with soft clicks—forehead, cheeks, neck. The fit was seamless, no edges visible, the mask moving like real skin.

"Fuck, it feels alive," Ryan said, his voice slightly altered to match the persona.

Ethan, as Coach Dan, adjusted his own mask, the anchors snapping into place. "Looking good, kid."

Jacob, as Coach Mike, smirked. "Time for training."

They pulled on bodysuits: Ryan’s a swimmer’s physique with enhanced leg muscles, Speedo-patterned silicone hugging his form, cock sheathed for realism. Ethan and Jacob’s suits were broader, with lifeguard-red patterns, their cocks similarly enhanced. The mind-link, now at 70%, shared Ryan’s kink vividly: Dom me in the water. Make me yours.

Recovery limited them to the suite’s oversized tub, filled with warm water. They climbed in, the liquid lapping at their suits. Ethan pinned Ryan against the tub’s edge, kissing him roughly, the coach persona taking over. "You’re our star swimmer, but you need discipline."

Jacob, behind Ryan, inserted a small anal bead toy, pulling it in and out with deliberate slowness. "Focus, kid," he growled, his voice deep. "Feel every pull."

Ryan moaned, the beads sending shivers through him, amplified by the mind-link. Ethan’s arousal flooded them—Rough, needy—while Jacob’s tenderness balanced it—Careful, love him. Their thoughts blended, Ryan feeling both their desires as he arched into the touch.

They stroked each other, water splashing, hands slick on silicone. The climax hit simultaneously, the mind-link syncing their orgasms into a single, overwhelming wave. Ryan gasped, "That was… us," as they peeled off the masks, faces identical again beneath.

By the fourth day, Ryan was walking freely, the swelling nearly gone. The mind-link reached 80%, and Ryan’s kinks surfaced more strongly. During a quiet moment, his thought blasted through: Toys. Bind me. Dom me hard. Ethan and Jacob exchanged glances, their cocks twitching at the shared intensity.

In the bedroom, they bound Ryan spread-eagle to the bed with soft ropes, his new body taut and gleaming. Ethan selected a prostate massager, its vibrations pulsing in rhythmic patterns. "Ready for this, Ry?" he asked, lubing the toy.

"God, yes," Ryan breathed, his voice a mix of submission and eagerness.

Jacob knelt beside him, sucking Ryan’s cock slowly, while Ethan inserted the massager, angling it to hit the right spot. The mind-link looped their sensations: Ryan felt Ethan’s dominant thrill, Jacob’s gentle worship, and his own submissive bliss. "Harder," Ryan begged, his voice breaking.

Ethan switched places, entering Ryan with his cock, the massager still vibrating inside. Jacob used a dildo on himself, sharing the sensation through the link—tight, full, perfect. The room filled with moans, bodies moving in sync, the climax a shared explosion that left them trembling, minds entwined.

"That’s… addiction," Ryan panted, unbound, curling into their arms.

On the fifth day, Ryan’s swimming passion demanded expression. They planned a private beach outing, renting a secluded cove near the clinic. Masks were crafted to make them appear as triplet brothers—identical silicone faces over their converged ones, with subtle variations in expression to avoid suspicion. Ryan’s bodysuit enhanced his legs for swimming, fins embedded in the silicone. Ethan and Jacob wore lifeguard suits, their physiques broader, with buoyancy aids for realism.

At the cove, the Pacific was cool and inviting. They dove in, the mind-link sharing every sensation: Water gliding over skin, muscles burning, freedom. Ryan’s love for swimming infused them, Ethan and Jacob feeling the joy as if it were their own. They swam in formation, bodies slicing through waves, their thoughts a chorus of exhilaration.

Back on the shore, they spread blankets and shed wet suits, revealing their identical bodies. Ryan knelt, beads in hand. "Use these," he said, his thought echoing: deep, intense. Ethan and Jacob complied, Ryan bottoming as Ethan entered his ass, Jacob his mouth. The beads were pulled slowly during thrusts, each tug sending shocks through Ryan, shared instantly via the link. Their climax was a tidal wave, minds merging into a single pulse of pleasure.

The sixth day deepened their play. They layered masks: Ryan donned his old face—blue eyes, light brown hair—over his converged one, the nostalgia bittersweet. Then, a stranger persona: a submissive slave mask, pale and youthful, eyes wide with surrender. Ethan and Jacob chose master masks—stern, bearded, exuding authority. Their suits were leather harnesses, cocks sheathed in thick silicone.

"Slave, serve us," Ethan commanded, his voice gravelly.

Ryan knelt, the mind-link screaming: pain-pleasure, submit. Jacob applied nipple clamps, tightening just enough to sting. Ethan whipped Ryan’s back lightly with a flogger, each strike a shared sensation. They formed a chain: Ethan fucking Ryan, Jacob in Ethan, a large dildo train amplifying the loop. Thoughts blurred—whose pleasure? whose pain?—the climax a unified roar, bodies collapsing together.

By the seventh day, the mind-band hit 100%. Thoughts flowed like water, selves indistinguishable. They began unmasked, making love as their true, converged selves—Ethan entering Ryan, Jacob stroking both, no roles, just unity. They stood naked, staring into each other’s hazel eyes, hands tracing matched bodies. "Who’s who?" Ethan asked, his voice soft with wonder.

"Doesn’t matter," Ryan replied, his smile mirroring theirs.

"We’re a trinity," Jacob said, pulling them close.

They embraced, bodies pressed tight, minds humming in perfect sync. Ryan’s influences—his passion for swimming, his love for intense kink—were fully woven into their shared identity. Their love was a tapestry of three souls, their selves merged into something eternal, ready for infinite futures.

Part 12: A Blended Trinity and New Horizons

The salty breeze of Seaside swept through the open windows of Jacob’s cottage, now a shared haven for Ethan, Jacob, and Ryan. The trio, their faces and bodies surgically aligned—smooth, chiseled jaws, dark blond hair, hazel eyes, and athletic builds honed to near-identical perfection—moved with a synchronicity that went beyond the physical. Their neural implants hummed, a constant thread of thoughts and emotions weaving them into a single entity. The studio, cluttered with silicone molds, latex scraps, and half-finished bodysuits, buzzed with their combined energy.

Ryan, fresh from quitting his Portland graphic design job, tossed his duffel bag onto the couch. “No more nine-to-five,” he said, his voice a match to Ethan and Jacob’s, a deliberate choice from the surgeries. “I’m all in. Workshop, masks, us.”

Ethan grinned, clapping Ryan’s shoulder. “Welcome to the chaos. You ready to sculpt some faces?”

Jacob, mixing resin at a workbench, laughed. “He’s already got ideas. Told me last night he wants a merman suit. Gills, scales, the works.”

Ryan’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah. Picture this: underwater role-play, all three of us in aquatic suits, moving like we’re part of the ocean. Implants syncing every sensation.”

Ethan’s arousal flickered through the link, mirrored by Jacob’s. “Fuck, that’s hot,” Ethan said. “Let’s make it happen.”

“First,” Ryan said, stripping off his shirt to reveal his swimmer’s physique, now enhanced to match theirs, “we swim. Every morning. I wanna carve some swells with you. Join me?”

Jacob nodded, feeling Ryan’s resolve through the implant. “Deal. Ocean’s right there.”

The next morning, they hit the beach at dawn, the Pacific cold and bracing. Ryan led, diving into the waves with a swimmer’s grace, Ethan and Jacob following. Their bodies, nearly indistinguishable, cut through the water, muscles flexing in unison. The implants amplified the rush—Ryan’s exhilaration at the current, Ethan’s thrill from the chill, Jacob’s quiet joy in their shared rhythm.

“Feel that?” Ryan called, surfacing. “Like we’re one with the sea.”

Ethan laughed, shaking water from his hair. “I feel you feeling it. These implants are wild.”

Back at the studio, they dried off, the link buzzing with post-swim endorphins. Ryan’s influence reshaped their routines. Mornings were for swimming, strengthening their bodies and tightening their bond. Afternoons, Ethan coded remotely, his software engineering keeping their finances steady. Jacob sculpted masks, his artist’s hands crafting hyper-realistic silicone faces. Ryan, new to the workshop, dove into suit design, sketching aquatic personas with intricate details—scales that shimmered, fins that flexed.

“Check this,” Ryan said one afternoon, holding up a tablet sketch: a merman mask with translucent gills, webbed fingers, and a tail suit with embedded sensors. “For the pool. Submerge us fully.”

Jacob ran a finger over the screen. “We’ll need breathable silicone for the masks. Oxygen micro-channels. I can do that.”

Ethan leaned in, his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, feeling the shared excitement. “And I’ll code the sensor feedback. Make every touch electric.”

Their evenings blended work and play. Jacob taught Ryan mold-making, their hands brushing over silicone. Ethan rigged neural interfaces, tweaking the implants’ sensitivity. The link grew stronger, thoughts overlapping: Ethan’s focus on code, Jacob’s creative flow, Ryan’s kinetic energy.

Ryan’s love for swimming seeped into Ethan and Jacob, reshaping their passions. Ethan, once a rock climber, found himself craving the water’s resistance over cliff faces. Jacob, who baked to unwind, started incorporating oceanic themes—cookies shaped like shells, cakes with wave-like frosting.

One evening, Jacob pulled a tray of sea-glass-inspired macarons from the oven. “Try these,” he said, passing one to Ryan.

Ryan bit in, his pleasure spiking through the link. “Fuck, Jacob, these are art. You’re blending us.”

Ethan grabbed one, savoring the crunch. “I’m getting your baking bug. And Ryan’s swim obsession. We’re merging tastes.”

Ryan smirked. “Good. Means you’ll love my next idea: a D/S scene in those merman suits. Hard play, toys included.”

Their eyes met, the link crackling with anticipation.

That night, they christened the new pool Jacob had installed behind the studio, a deep, heated basin perfect for Ryan’s aquatic fantasies. The merman suits were ready: shimmering blue-green silicone, scales molded with pearlescent pigment, tails flexible yet firm, with internal anal sleeves for enhanced sensation. The masks featured gills—breathable micro-channels allowing underwater submersion—and webbed hands for fluid movement. Sensors embedded in the suits linked to their implants, amplifying touch.

Ryan, as dom, wore a suit with sharper fins, his mask angular, predatory. “Kneel,” he commanded, voice modulated to a deep, oceanic rumble.

Ethan and Jacob, in matching submissive merman suits—sleeker, with softer scales—dropped to their knees by the pool’s edge. Ryan bound their wrists with waterproof ropes, the knots tight but safe. He held up two silicone anal plugs, ridged and vibrating, remote-controlled via his phone.

“Open,” he said. Ethan complied first, Ryan easing the plug in, the vibration low but intense. Ethan’s moan echoed through the link, Jacob feeling it as his own plug was inserted.

“Into the water,” Ryan ordered.

They slid in, the suits’ tails propelling them. Underwater, Ryan took control, guiding Ethan to a bench built into the pool’s wall. He entered Ethan slowly, the suit’s sleeve enhancing every thrust, vibrations pulsing in sync. Jacob watched, tethered nearby, his own plug buzzing, their implants sharing the crescendo of pleasure.

“Switch,” Ryan said, untying Jacob. He fucked Jacob next, Ethan’s lingering sensations blending with Jacob’s, a feedback loop of ecstasy. They climaxed together, the link a supernova of shared release.

Out of the water, they peeled off the suits, silicone clinging to their skin via bio-adhesives and subdermal anchors. Naked, they collapsed together, minds still intertwined.

“Never felt anything like that,” Ethan panted, feeling Ryan’s pride and Jacob’s bliss.

Ryan grinned. “We’re just getting started.”

Another night, they layered masks: base layer, each other’s old faces—Ethan’s brown-haired mask on Ryan, Jacob’s dark blond on Ethan, Ryan’s original blue-eyed face on Jacob. Top layer: strangers. Ethan as a young soldier; Jacob as a lithe gymnast, smooth and flexible; Ryan as a naval officer, stern and chiseled.

Ryan, dominating, chained them to the bedposts with padded cuffs. “Beg,” he said, wielding a larger toy—a thick, ribbed dildo with vibration settings. He teased Jacob first, sliding it in, the implants broadcasting every sensation. Ethan, bound nearby, writhed as he felt it too.

“Fuck me, sir,” Jacob gasped, playing the gymnast’s submissive role.

Ryan obliged, then turned to Ethan, repeating the act. Their climaxes were a shared explosion, minds merging into one entity.

Ryan’s ideas fueled their workshop. They crafted a trio of kraken-inspired suits: dark, tentacled silicone, each arm flexible and sensor-laden. The masks had glowing eyes, bioluminescent paint under UV light. In the pool, they role-played as sea monsters, tentacles entwining, fucking in a chaotic, primal dance, implants amplifying the surreal pleasure.

Another creation: dolphin suits, sleek and gray, with sonar-like modulators in the masks for echolocation-inspired dirty talk. “Find me,” Ryan teased, swimming away. Ethan and Jacob chased, the chase ending in a three-way underwater grapple, cocks sheathed in suit sleeves, climaxes synced, minds overloading as one.

The implants deepened their merger. Ethan’s rock climbing melded with Ryan’s swimming—group hikes to coastal cliffs, scaling rocks then diving into the sea. Jacob’s baking became a trio effort, Ryan suggesting saltwater taffy recipes, Ethan perfecting the texture. Their passions fused, each man’s desires indistinguishable from the others’.

Their love grew inward, a three-way mirror. “I love you because you’re me,” Jacob whispered one night, their naked bodies pressed together, implants humming.

“And us,” Ethan added, feeling Ryan’s agreement through the link.

Ryan kissed them both. “We’re one, but infinite.”

They posted again on the forum: “Triad seeking guest for masked fantasy. Seaside. Discreet.”

A response from “ShadowSkin,” a Vancouver masker, intrigued them. “I’m into spy personas,” he wrote. “Let’s play secret agents.”

They invited him, crafting CIA operative suits: tailored silicone uniforms, masks with sharp features and hidden comms. The session was intense—ShadowSkin as a rogue agent, them as his captors, light interrogation play with cuffs and teasing touches. The link kept their dynamic tight, ShadowSkin unaware of their neural bond.

Post-session, they debriefed. “He was fun,” Ryan said, “but not a fit for us permanently.” Thought recently incorporated into the triad he was home.

Ethan nodded. “We’re complete, but… maybe another someday? Not this one, but maybe in the future…?”

Jacob smiled. “There are infinite possibilities.”

Late one night, they sat on the beach, the waves a soft rhythm. The link pulsed with their shared memories: Ethan and Jacob’s first forum messages, their masks and suits, the surgeries, Ryan’s arrival. From two to three, their love had grown boundless, a shared entity that defied individuality.

“We started as BitMask and Fl3shM4ker,” Ethan said, voice soft. “Now we’re… this.”

Jacob leaned against him. “A trinity. Selfless, but whole.”

Ryan squeezed their hands. “And open to more. The forum’s still out there. Who knows what’s next?”