Chapter 74 Sexual orientation confirmation panel (3)
The restraints on Alex’s wrists stayed locked, but everything else had become negotiable.
Julian’s hands slid under Alex’s shoulder blades and lifted them as easily as if they weighed nothing.
The padded table dipped; Selene was already behind, harness discarded, bare skin warm and slick with sweat.
She guided Alex backward until they were half-reclined against her chest, her thighs bracketing theirs, her arms hooked under their knees to spread them wider.
In the mirror above, the three of them looked like a single, obscene organism.
Julian standing between Alex’s open legs, Selene cradling them from behind, both doctors breathing in perfect sync.
Julian rolled on a fresh condom with steady fingers, never breaking eye contact.
Selene’s lips brushed the shell of Alex’s ear.
“No more separate trials,” she whispered. “Now we give you everything at once and let your body vote with its nerves.”
Julian slicked himself generously, lube warmed in his palm, the way he had done every step of this night, then pressed the blunt head of his cock against Alex’s entrance.
He paused there, letting the anticipation burn.
“Safe word is still red,” he reminded, voice rougher than it had been an hour ago.
“Use it and we stop instantly. Otherwise… breathe out.”
Alex exhaled shakily. Julian pushed in, slow, relentless, stretching them open on a single breath.
The sound Alex made was half-sob, half-prayer.
When Julian was fully seated, hips flush to thighs, he stilled.
Selene’s hand slid down Alex’s belly, fingers spreading them gently, exposing the place where Julian disappeared inside them.
“Look,” she ordered softly.
Alex looked up.
The ceiling mirror reflected the impossible image, Julian’s thick length buried deep, Selene’s elegant fingers framing the sight like a frame around living pornography.
Then Selene reached for the warmed silicone wand on the tray, smaller than the harness had been, curved, merciless.
She coated it slowly, deliberately, letting Alex watch every inch become glossy.
Julian leaned forward, chest to Alex’s, and spoke against their mouth.
“You’ll take her too. Right alongside me. We’ll feel each other through you.”
Alex’s answer was a broken nod.
Selene guided the wand with surgical precision.
The stretch was immediate, overwhelming: two intrusions sliding carefully together, separated by only the thinnest wall of flesh.
Alex’s back bowed; the cuffs rattled violently.
Selene soothed them with soft noises, kissing the side of their neck, while Julian held perfectly still, letting Alex’s body adjust.
When the wand was fully seated, Selene flicked it on.
Low, steady vibration.
Alex cried out, raw, animal.
The monitor on the stand flat-lined into a continuous warning tone before someone silenced it with a casual thumb.
Julian began to move first: long, slow withdrawals followed by deep, claiming thrusts.
Every stroke dragged the head of his cock across the vibrating wand inside them.
Selene matched his rhythm instinctively, rocking the wand in tiny circles that ground against Julian and against every screaming nerve in Alex’s body.
The room filled with wet sounds, broken breathing, the creak of leather and vinyl.
Selene’s free hand snaked around to stroke Alex in time, firm, clinical pulls that made it clear orgasm was no longer forbidden; it was required.
Julian’s composure was unraveling in fascinating increments.
Sweat beaded at his temple; the muscle in his jaw flexed each time Alex clenched around them both.
“Tell us,” he growled, voice shredded. “Say it.”
Alex couldn’t form words.
Their head thrashed against Selene’s shoulder.
She laughed softly, delighted, and increased the wand’s speed.
“Say it, sweetheart,” she coaxed, biting Alex’s earlobe.
“We already know. Your pulse spiked highest when we were both inside you. Your pupils blow widest when you watch us share you. But we want to hear it from that pretty mouth.”
Julian slammed deep and held, grinding. “Who owns you, Alex?”
The orgasm hit like a seizure, sudden, violent, endless.
Alex’s entire body seized; their cry cracked in the middle.
Julian groaned at the rhythmic clenching around his cock, hips stuttering.
Selene kept the wand pressed hard, milking every aftershock until Alex was sobbing from overstimulation.
Julian followed seconds later, deep, pulsing thrusts that dragged the pleasure out longer than should have been possible.
Selene’s breath hitched against Alex’s neck; her own climax rippled through her in waves that tightened her grip under Alex’s knees.
For a long moment the only movement was the rise and fall of three chests.
Eventually Julian eased out, disposed of the condom with shaking hands.
Selene switched off the wand and withdrew it gently, setting it aside like a spent instrument.
Together they unfastened the cuffs, massaging red marks with practiced care.
Alex lay limp, staring at their own wrecked reflection, lips swollen, eyes glassy, a constellation of bite marks blooming across collarbones and thighs.
Julian fetched a warm cloth, cleaned them with the same precision he had used to ruin them.
Selene poured water into a crystal glass and held it to Alex’s lips until they drank.
When strength returned enough for speech, Julian sat on the edge of the table and opened a small leather folio.
Inside was the matte-black card, identical to the one Alex had arrived with, except this one was blank.
He uncapped a fountain pen.
Selene leaned over his shoulder, hair tickling Alex’s bare skin.
“Official diagnosis,” Julian said, writing in an elegant, slanted script. He turned the card so Alex could read.
Patient Alex Carter exhibits extreme, undifferentiated bisexual responsiveness.
Peak physiological markers achieved only under simultaneous male and female penetration.
Conclusion: orientation not binary.
Recommended treatment: Drs. J. Hart & S. Hart, conjoint sessions, twice weekly.
Duration: indefinite.
Relapse is highly probable and enthusiastically encouraged.
Below the text were two blank lines.
Julian offered the pen. “Sign with your full name. Then initial the relapse clause at the bottom.”
Alex’s hand trembled as they took the pen. Selene steadied their wrist, guiding the tip to the paper. They signed, shaky, but legible.
When it was done, Julian tucked the card into a black envelope and pressed it into Alex’s palm.
“Your prescription,” he said. “We’ll see you next Thursday. Same time.”
Selene kissed Alex’s temple, then Julian’s mouth, slow, married, possessive.
“Bring the envelope,” she added. “We’ll want to add new data.”
Alex stood on legs that barely worked. The silk robe had vanished somewhere; Julian draped his own white coat around their shoulders instead.
It smelled like cedar and sex and both of them.
The elevator waited, doors open like a patient mouth.
As Alex stepped inside, Julian’s voice followed, quietly amused.
“Safe word still works between sessions, Alex. But something tells me you won’t be using it.”
The doors closed.
Forty-seven floors below, the city kept moving, utterly unaware that somewhere above it, three people had just rewritten one person’s entire understanding of want.
Alex clutched the black envelope to their chest and smiled, shaky, sated, already counting the days until Thursday.