Show Me by Sabriel & Sian

Jason's hands  slowly released the dirt and grass that his fingers had clenched. He rolled  carefully onto his side, his body protesting the movement. One bruised arm  lowered to clutch tightly against his cracked ribs. Jason's stomach rolled with  his body's movement and he vomited up the blood, dirt, and semen he had been  forced to swallow. He did not know how long he had lain there or how much time  had passed since his attackers had fled. It was still night, so he had not been  unconscious long and all he could hear were some distant howls of the pack that  had yet to change back.

Jason's shook with  reaction. He struggled to clear his head, needing to get out of there before  they retuned. He tried to remember the details of what had happened. He had been  leaving the lupanar after an evening run with the pack. Some comments had been  made, he remembered those. Something about the Master's pet running back to his  vampire's side. He had shouted back something along the lines of jealous wolves  and left. That was it. The pack was large, over six hundred wolves, and Jason  knew there was talk, some who resented him. Most of the pack only saw their  Ulfric from a distance on full-moon nights. Many had only read of the  Executioner or seen glimpses of her from a distance. The Master of the City was  an enigma, a specter whose call they could not refuse. Jason was known to have  dined in the Ulfric's home, slept in the Executioner's bed and was the Pomme de  Sang of the Master of the City. No wonder he was regarded with resentment,  jealousy, and some hatred.

He had been on his  way to his car when a body had slammed into him from behind sending him to the  ground. Hands had been all over him, fast, too fast for him to fight off. Jason  didn't know how many there had been, he could not recall any faces, just blurred  images, taunting words, and pain. Jason had not been dressed, neither had the  bodies that rushed him. Five, no, maybe it had been six; he really didn't know  how many had raped him. It had just seemed to never end, one after the other.  After the rape, they had beaten him, finally leaving him bloody, lying in the  dirt. Jason gathered his nerve, shifting his legs and bracing his arms to rise.  He bit his lip until it bled pushing himself upright, holding back the screams  of pain. Once he made it to his knees, he stopped, head lowered, as he took deep  breaths, trying not to pass out. He had to get out of here.

Jason stumbled out  of the woods to his car. He leaned heavily onto the hood. His breath hissed  sharply past his lips when he reached for his clothing, the sharp pain in his  side confirming that they had definitely broken some ribs. He struggled to pull  on his clothes, unable to prevent the cry of pain as he bent over to pull up his  jeans. Jason dug almost frantically through his pockets, where were the damn  keys? He opened the car door and stared down into the seat, how was he going  to do this? Once inside, Jason closed and locked the door. He laid his head on  the steering wheel desperately fighting the pain. Each breath he took sent  razor-sharp spikes through his chest and the pressure on his torn rectum made  sitting in the car excruciating. Forcing himself upright he started the car and  pulled away from the lupanar. His glance was bitter as he stared at the  vanishing haven of the pack, the place they were supposed to be safe, wrapped in  the bosom of their fellow shapeshifters. He laughed bitterly, that illusion  shattered. Oh, he could run to Anita or Richard, but he could not even identify  his attackers. What would be the point?

Anita would kill  them. He knew that. His hands tightened around the steering column, the need for  vengeance bitter on his tongue. But then he would have to come forward, tell  them what had been done to him. No! No way was he doing that! He didn't want  anyone to find out that he had been raped by members of his own pack. Jason knew  his attackers would be waiting for the Executioner or the Master of the City or  even Richard to show up wanting revenge, which would only confirm their opinions  of Jason. He did not want tattle to his Masters or Anita and cry on their  shoulders expecting them to save him. Hell, that was one of Anita's biggest  problems; she tried too hard to save everyone. Jason had just enough pride to  want to handle this alone.

Jason pulled the  car to the back of the Circus into the employee's lot. It was late, long after  the final show. It took him several tries before he could pull himself upright  and out of the car. One hand held his bruised side while the other fumbled for  the door key. Jason peeked around the door and let out a sigh of relief. The  stairs were empty. He crept carefully down them, holding tightly to the wall for  support. He knew if he got close enough to any of the vamps, they would smell  the blood and come to investigate. He couldn't face any of them, especially not  Jean-Claude.

The last step  seemed so very far away and each carefully placed foot was agony to his lower  regions. Jason had to stop several times to keep himself upright with the aid of  the railing. He also needed to keep stopping to catch his breath, the broken  ribs making it painful to inhale too deeply. Finally, he made it to the bottom  and started to creep towards his room. He did not notice the blood that had  started to drip from his pants leg to the stone floor, leaving a trail of red  for anyone to follow.

He was almost  inside his room, when a voice stopped him cold. "Jason?" Asher asked.

Asher watched as  the young were froze, his body visible tensing. Jason did not turn around; he  just stayed poised at the door looking as if he were prepared to flee. Asher  stopped several feet away as he got a look at the young were. Asher stared at  Jason, horrified at what he saw. The back of Jason's jeans from his thighs down  was soaked nearly black in what smelled like blood. The young man was hunched  over, his hand white-knuckled on the door to his room. "Jason?" Asher asked  again, his voice gentle, but still Jason refused to turn and face him.

"Did you need  something, Asher?" Jason asked, his voice tight and slightly higher pitched than  normal.

"You're bleeding,"  Asher said. The comment bland, non-judgmental.

"It's nothing."  Jason said. Asher could see Jason's chest rising and falling irregularly. The  strain of breathing was taking an unexpected toll.

"Should I see the  other guy?" Asher asked, trying to lighten the mood. Jason didn't respond.  Instead his breath caught on what sounded like a sob. Asher couldn't stand it  any longer. Something had happened and the longer they stayed out in the  hallway, the more likely they'd be discovered.

Asher's hand caught  Jason's and continued the motion of turning the doorknob. He pushed Jason gently  ahead of him and flipped on the light. He couldn't control his gasp. Jason  looked even worse than he'd realized. His face was so swollen only one eye could  open. His lips were cracked and a trickle of blood could still be seen. The  clothes hid his body. But the blood that stained Jason's jeans gave him a good  indication of his injuries. Asher did not need to ask what had happened, the  location of the blood telling the tale all too clearly. Jason stared blankly  back at him out of his one eye and Asher could see that the young were was in  shock, the black of his pupil drowning out the light blue color of his eye. He  moved slowly towards Jason, gently taking the young were's arm, flinching  himself at Jason's cringe. "It is okay, Jason. You are safe now," Asher spoke  softly, hypnotically, trying to gentle the skittish were.

Jason seemed to  come to from his stupor. He tried to jerk away from Asher but the vampire had a  strong grip on his arm. "Let go, Asher! I'm fine," Jason once again pulled away  and could not stop the cry as his body protested the movement.

"Stop struggling,  Jason. You are only making it worse," Asher began leading the young man towards  the bathroom. "I need to see how badly you are hurt," Asher said, his tone low  and he hoped, soothing.

At those words  though, Jason began struggling anew. "No. Damn it, Asher! Let me go. I'm fine!"  Jason tugged away from Asher finally and stumbled back towards the bed; but as  he attempted to sit, he cried out and bent over as stabbing pain radiated from  his abused nether regions.

Asher moved quickly  and helped Jason sit carefully upon the bed. "Stop being childish. Don't force  me to call Jean-Claude." Asher made his voice harsh hoping that Jason would be  more scared of that threat than the thought of Asher seeing his injuries.

Jason glared up at  the blond vampire with his one functioning eye. "Fine," he spat, hoping his  anger hid the desperation. He did not want Jean-Claude in here. He did not want  Jean-Claude to see him this way, to face him and detail what they did to him. He  sat fighting the tremors that shook his body and the threat of tears that  clogged his throat. He watched as the vampire disappeared into the bathroom. He  glanced at the door, considering making a run for it, but shook his head at  himself. There was no way he could out run Asher even if he weren't injured. He  heard the bath water running and tensed as Asher came back into the room.  Jason's body shook as the vampire came towards him. He unconsciously clenched  his fist, fighting the instinct to escape. He knew deep down that he had nothing  to fear from Asher, but as the vampire got closer and closer, rationality fled.

Jason sprang up  before Asher could lay a hand on him. He skirted out of vampire's way, putting  as much distance between them as the room allowed. He watched closely as Asher  held out his hands, recognizing that he was trying not to scare him. "I ran you  a bath, Jason. It will help," Asher said in a placid tone. Jason moved  hesitantly towards bath all the while firmly keeping Asher in sight. He looked  longingly at the full tub of steamy water, but snapped back to attention when he  felt Asher's hands start to tug on his clothes. He slapped at the pale hands,  motions panicky and disjointed.

"What are you  doing?" he cried. Asher held up his hands once more and backed away. Jason might  have laughed had he the humor for it. Never had Asher treated him so carefully.  What was even funnier, he thought, was that before tonight he had often gave  serious thought to what it would be like to be fucked by Jean-Claude or Asher.  Not now, no way. How could he have wanted something so humiliating? Even the  brushes of Asher's hands as they battled over Jason's pants had him shuddering  in remembered disgust and horror and fear.

"Jason, you need  help right now. I won't hurt you. Look deeply within yourself. You know I  wouldn't harm you." Asher went back to the hypnotic cadence that he hoped with  ensnare Jason long enough to get him into the tub.

"I'm fine," Jason  repeated, swallowing hard, fighting tears again. He did know Asher wouldn't hurt  him. But the thought of another man's touch made his stomach roll with nausea.

Asher sighed. "Come  on, then, I'll merely watch over you. Someone has to make sure you don't drown  yourself." He stepped back and Jason moved forward.

The bathroom was  large enough for both men but Asher gave Jason plenty of space, something for  which Jason was grateful. He began shedding the clothes from his body. He got to  his pants and stopped. "Do you have to watch?" Jason asked, not quite meeting  the other man's eyes.

"You're going to  need my assistance. Besides, I've seen the male form before. Including yours."  Asher reminded him.

Jason struggled  with the pants for long minutes before tears of frustration finally leaked from  his eyes. He wondered if Asher would make him beg. He hadn't even completed the  thought before Asher was there, peeling the pants from his legs. The blood had  dried in places. The scent, normally so desirable, was making him sick. He  didn't even realize when he gripped Asher's arm to lower himself into the steamy  water. He cried out when the water lapped at the lacerations.

There was silence  for long minutes. Jason couldn't hear Asher's breathing, but then, the vampire  didn't have to breathe. At least not like humans and were-animals. The water  felt good against his abused flesh. He sunk lower, immersing himself almost to  his nose. Now that he was in the tub, he couldn't imagine leaving it. For a  moment, a very brief, altogether fleeting moment, he thought about what drowning  would feel like. Asher's voice brought him back to reality.

"Come, Jason, the  water won't clean you up by itself."

Jason's eyes rolled  up. He stared at the half-naked vampire. Asher rarely disrobed around any of  them, even Jean-Claude. The scars stood out in stark relief. Jason didn't see  them anymore, much like Anita. They were just part of him. But as he came  closer, Jason tensed, curling himself into a ball, unable to control a whimper  of fear. At that moment, Jason despised himself.

Asher sat by the  tub, not unaware of Jason's reaction. His hand held a soft cloth. He dipped it  in the water, letting it lazily drift and sink into the warm depths. Jason  shivered. Asher sighed. "Has Jean-Claude never told you of his first years at  court?" He didn't wait for a response. "No, I don't suppose he has. When he and  I were both young vampires, we were much weaker than we are now. Belle  controlled us, our hearts, our bodies, our minds. I know Jean-Claude has told  you that she ordered us to bed others. Political gain usually. And usually it  was a pleasure. But if we displeased her? The punishment for that was always  painful and humiliating. We were both experienced libertines. But that doesn't  mean we couldn't be raped, our bodies abused. I won't say it was frequent, but  neither was it rare. We cared for each other after those incidents. Rubbing away  the evidence of the chains that bound us, the whips that struck us, the fluids  that coated our skin."

While he spoke, he  gently brushed the cloth down Jason's limp arms and over his shoulders, rubbing  at the dirt ground into his skin. Jason hadn't said anything, but he wasn't  resisting either. Asher nudged him forward, drawing the cloth against his back.  He began speaking again. "Rape is not about sex, Jason. It's about power. It's  about showing someone that you are strong and they are weak. You are not weak,  mon ami. Gang rape, and I assume that this was, is designed to humiliate. You  have nothing to be ashamed of."

He was washing  Jason's calves and feet, careful to go no higher, when Jason spoke, his voice  dead. "There were five of them, I think. Maybe more."

"You resisted." It wasn't a question.

"For all the good  it did." The disgust was evident. This time when the tears fell, Jason didn't  try to stop them. He let Asher wash him until the point where Asher tried to  move between his legs. "No! I'll do it!" Though his words were hard to  distinguish through the tear-choked breathing.

"Jason, you can't  reach back there. Not well enough. Let me do it. I won't hurt you. Trust me,"  Asher cajoled.

"They were my  pack-mates, Asher. I was supposed to trust them!" Jason started sobbing in  earnest now and barely noticed when Asher maneuvered his body for better access.  He didn't even realize that Asher had been and gone from his body.

The water was cool  and Asher helped the young man from the tub, wrapping him in a towel and leading  him to the bed. Asher would have liked to have used the salve he kept on hand  for this purpose but he knew Jason wouldn't have been able to handle it. Jason  had calmed by the time Asher had returned with a glass of water and another of  brandy.

"I don't drink that  stuff, Asher." Jason said pointing to the cut-glass of amber liquid, but  grateful for the water.

"It's been  centuries since I could drink it, but I still remember the taste of it burning  my throat and warming my stomach. Drink it. It will dull the pain." He pushed  against Jason's legs and Jason made room for him to sit. "Sleep tonight and  tomorrow. Call in sick for work. I will speak to Jean-Claude."

Asher looked up in  surprise as Jason suddenly froze, a look of sheer terror on the young were's  face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Jason whispered,  fear lacing his tone. "H-how can I let Jean-Claude touch me now?" Jason's voice  broke. He was unaware of the pleading in his eyes as he stared at Asher. The  very thought of resting in Jean-Claude's arms, of having any male that close,  sent icy chills through his body. Jason wrapped his arms tight around himself.  Thoughts of being held tightly in pale arms sent him deep within his own mind.  His blank stare was focused on nothing now.

Asher drew the  trembling form gently into his embrace, careful to leave lots of space between  their bodies, and rubbed soothing hands over his back. "It will be okay,  petite pomme. I will help you, I promise."

Jason pulled away  from Asher and reached for the glass of liquor. He downed the contents in one  long gulp. He coughed and choked as the liquor burned a path to his stomach and  warmth spread through his body.

Asher took the now  empty glass before it could fall from Jason's numb hand. He tucked the blankets  tightly around the young were and whispered. "Sleep. We will speak again later,"  Asher shut off the light and gently closed Jason's door behind him. He stood,  lost in thought for a moment before determinedly making his way towards  Jean-Claude's room.

He knocked once and  entered, knowing that the Master was alone. Jean-Claude looked up, a pleased  smile across his lips. "Mon ami, I expected you earlier." He motioned to  the couch where the book-of-the-week rested; it's bright orange cover stark  against the white leather.

Asher couldn't help  but smile at his old friend. Things between them had been so much easier these  past months since they were able to touch again. It may not have been like at  court, but he was no longer alone. That was worth everything. "We have a  problem, mon ami." Asher said, quickly explaining to Jean-Claude all that  had happened to Jason. Jean-Claude reacted with an anger and outrage understood  only by others who have been similarly violated. "He's afraid of serving you  again. He's more afraid not to."

"Oui. It  will not be pleasant. Can you handle it?" Jean-Claude's cryptic comment was  easily understood by his lieutenant.

"I did it for you the first time. Don't you remember?"

"But I already loved you."

"Then you don't  remember your shame and humiliation that night. Good. I should be able to do  better for your pomme de sang."

With that taken  care of, Asher went to the couch and picked up the book. He opened to page one  and began to read out loud.

Chapter 2

Jason groaned as  he slowly came awake. His body was stiff but the blinding pain from the night  before was gone, his lycanthropic healing abilities providing relief from his  injuries. He rose, still shaky, and made his way into the bathroom. Jason stared  back at his reflection. Most of the bruising faded to purple and yellow. One  more day and it would be gone. He could not bring himself to meet his own eyes  in the mirror, instead turned the shower on as hot as he could stand. The desire  to scrub his flesh had his skin bright red, but he could not feel clean. Jason  finally stepped out of the shower, the hot water running cool before his need  for cleansing had been sated. He knew he should eat something but also knew food  would not stay down. He called and left a message at Guilty Pleasures saying he  was ill. He climbed back nude under the covers. He did not know how long he  stayed like that, hiding under the covers, face buried from the light. He only  knew that a day came and went. He ignored all knocks upon his door, hiding as  long he was allowed. As time passed, his panic increased. The hour would arrive  that Jean-Claude expected his pomme de sang to feed him and that very thought  terrified Jason.

He wondered why  Asher had not returned. Surely an unanswered knock would not have kept him out?  He felt Jean-Claude's call and barely made it the bathroom to lose what little  bile remained in his stomach. His hands trembled as he dressed in a robe. The  journey to Jean-Claude's chambers was made on leaden feet and Jason fought every  instinct that screamed at him to run. He schooled his features and entered the  bedroom.

Jean-Claude had  just come from his bath. He was wearing Anita's favorite robe with the fur  collar and his midnight-hued hair hung heavy and wet down his back. Jean-Claude  gave him an almost absent greeting as he surveyed the wardrobe. "You're going  out?" Jason asked struggling to keep his tone neutral.

"Yes, with ma  petite. I am taking her to dine, though gourmet food is truly wasted on her  untrained palate." Jean-Claude sighed in resignation. "Come pomme de sang,  come and enjoy the rewards of your sacrifice." Jean-Claude moved to the  silk-sheeted bed and sat waiting his pomme de sang. "Jason?" he called a  question in his tone.

Jason flinched but  moved slowly towards the bed. "Rough change?" Jean-Claude asked. Jason stopped,  staring at the vampire in horror. Had Asher told? But Jean-Claude only frowned  and indicated the bruising still visible on Jason's face. Jason shook his head.  "A little," was all he said. He climbed, still wrapped in his robe, atop the  bed. Jean-Claude was studying him closely. Jason thought that his actions were  arousing the vampire's attentions, the distance Jason sat apart from him and the  fact that he had not shed the robe. Jason always before either chose to be nude  or wore next to nothing for these feedings. Jason's hands shook as he untied the  belt and shrugged off the robe.

"Ernie mentioned a  bit of a chill in the room this evening. If you would prefer to leave the robe  on, I understand." Jean-Claude was studying the open door of his wardrobe when  he said this last so he missed Jason's involuntary look of gratitude. Jason  tightened the robe more securely around himself. He scooted hesitantly closer to  Jean-Claude but went rigid as Jean-Claude reached for him.

Strong arms  wrapped around him and Jason's mind screamed. He began fighting and kicking,  growls leaving his lips. But the arms only tightened, none of his Master's words  reaching Jason's tormented mind. Jason fought harder. He couldn't get away!  There were too many of them, hands holding him down, all he could do was scream!  His body flayed and thrashed upon the bed as he sought to escape, fearing the  tearing pain that was coming. Suddenly, coldness swept over his mind and Jason  went limp, paralyzed by his Master's control over his frightened, confused mind.  He laid still, breath harshly leaving his body. Gradually he felt his heart rate  slow and warmth seep back into his frame. He heard the faint whispered voice of  Jean-Claude as it soothed over his mind, invading his limbs and bringing peace  back into his control.

Jason groaned and  opened his eyes, not entirely sure where he was or what had happened. He touched  his neck but there were no bloodstains. He looked up into Jean-Claude's dark  blue gaze and saw nothing but understanding and sadness. Fear lanced through  Jason when he realized that his position as pomme de sang was essentially  over. Jean-Claude would have no choice but to replace him. Jason pulled his  stiff frame up and looked down not wanting to face Jean-Claude again.

He felt disgusted  with himself. He had not fought hard enough and they had raped him. Now he could  not even stand his Master's touch. They had called him Master's pet and made fun  of his elite status. Oh, he knew it was jealously that prompted their remarks,  but now there was no way Jean-Claude could keep him if he could not even bear  Jean-Claude's touch. How foolish he had been to think he could just walk in here  and Jean-Claude would never have to know. Despair so deep it seemed  insurmountable gripped him.

"Jason,"  Jean-Claude said, drawing the young were's attention to him. "Asher told me what  has happened," Jean-Claude's tone was gentle. "You should have come to me. Did  you really think I would force you?" he asked, his tone almost academic, as if  this was something to be studied.

"I didn't want you  to know how weak I was," Jason mumbled, his head buried in his knees. But  Jean-Claude had no problem hearing the humiliated words.

"Didn't Asher tell you there is no shame in being victim?"

Jason didn't say anything.

Jean-Claude sat  down on the bed. "I didn't believe it either. I was a victim too many times  before I became a master. Even then, I still had blood oaths to my master. If  Belle wanted me punished, I was punished. If she wanted me to play victim, I let  whomever she desired hurt me and humiliate me to her satisfaction."

Jason stared  blankly ahead as he recounted the events that had happened two nights previous.  His voice was dispassionate as he described his rape and beating. When he  finished he dropped his head not wanting to see the disappointment in  Jean-Claude's eyes. When Jean-Claude's voice came it was coldly furious but his  words soothed any fears Jason might have had regarding his worth to his Master.  "Would you like me to kill them?" Jean-Claude asked. Jason gaped at him.  Jean-Claude's eyes were a drowning blue and his power danced across Jason's  skin. He had only seen Jean-Claude this enraged on a few occasions and only when  something or someone of his was endangered.

Jean-Claude  visibly struggled to control his anger. He brought a tender hand up to brush a  lock of Jason's hair back. "Can you identify them?" Jason shook his head. "Do  not concern yourself with this. I must feed and await ma petite. You rest  and we will speak more on this later. No arguments, Jason," he said firmly when  Jason opened his mouth to speak. "I am sending Asher to care for you and you  will give him no trouble, understood?" he asked. Jason just nodded and pulled  his robe tighter into his body.

He stopped  hesitantly at the door and looked back at the silent vampire. "We are okay,  Jean-Claude?" he asked, unaware of how very young and fragile his voice sounded.  Jean-Claude rose and came slowly towards the skittish were. He placed a gentle  kiss on Jason forehead and nodded.

Jason didn't see  Asher come into the room by the hidden door and was unaware of the conversation  that followed between he two vampires or of Asher's agreement with the course of  action they decided upon. All Jason knew was that once again in his room, it was  surprisingly lonely.

Sleep came  difficult that night. Jason's dreams were tormented as he relived the attack  again and again. He did not leave the bed the entire next day and he dreaded  Jean-Claude's next call. Had he told Anita? He didn't think so. Anita would have  barged into the room guns blazing. Thankfully, Jean-Claude and Richard were  barely on speaking terms, so Richard probably didn't know. Despite Jean-Claude's  easy acceptance, it wouldn't be possible to keep a pomme de sang that  couldn't be food. There was no way he could return to being just a member of the  local pack!

A knock came and  Jason whimpered. He curled tighter in his refuge, hoping that his ignoring the  noise would make it go away. But the door opened anyway. Jason's body relaxed  slightly, he knew that scent and it was not Jean-Claude's. He felt Asher sit  beside him on the bed but Jason stubbornly kept his head covered. Jason heard  Asher laugh softly and then the covers were tugged from around his body. "Come  petite loup you cannot hide here forever," Asher swept the blankets  completely off the bed. He ignored the snarl from Jason and stood up. Jason  watched in shocked horror as Asher began undressing. His body was immobile as  his mind tried to deal with what he was watching.

"W-what are you  doing?" he stammered out. Asher's pale body, scars and all, was nude and moving  towards him. He tried to get his limbs to move and as Asher's knee touched the  bed, he lunged towards the other side. But his lycanthrope speed was no match  for the master vampire's, and Jason cried out as he was caught around the waist  and wrapped tightly in steely arms. Jason struggled futility against Asher's  hold, unable to handle that another he was supposed to be safe among was capable  of this kind of betrayal. Jason's mind screamed out, and he thrashed and kicked,  little whimpers leaving his throat. Not again!

Asher had both  arms wrapped around Jason's body, pinning the young were's back against his  chest. He waited soothing the struggling body by gently rocking him. Once Jason  had exhausted himself and settle trembling against Asher's body, did Asher  speak. "It is all right, Jason. I will not hurt you, but you must get past this.  Normally a pomme de sang's master would handle this, but Jean-Claude  thought that I might engender fewer complications should Anita hear of it," he  laughed at the thought and for just a moment, so did Jason. "I did this for  Jean-Claude after his first time." Asher kept his tone low and soothing.

Jason shuddered in  the vampire's arms. Asher's breath ghosting across the back of his neck.  "H-how-w-what," he tried to speak, but Jason could not wrap his thoughts around  what was happening.

Asher loosened his  hold. He pressed against Jason's chest turning him so he lay flat with Asher  looking down into those frightened blue eyes. Asher brought a hand up and gently  smoothed strands of Jason's short blond hair from his face. "I have to show  you," he whispered before leaning down and kissing the stunned were. Asher made  his touch light as non-threatening as he was able. He brushed his lips lightly  over the unresponsive ones below his. Just rubbed back and forth, applying no  pressure. His hands settled neutrally across Jason's chest, not moving as of  yet.

Asher pulled back  and Jason stared up into those Husky-like eyes, searching them for any malice.  He could see no desire to hurt, only a gentle caring and concern. "Show me,  what?" he asked.

Asher smiled  softly and stroked a hand up to Jason's neck. His thumb stroked the fluttering  pulse. "That not all touches are made to humiliate or hurt, that there can be  pleasure between two males. You must know this in your heart if you are ever to  be comfortable with your Master's touch, Jason," Asher waited for the words to  sink in, knowing that Jason did not fully understand what Asher intended yet.

Jason's eyes  widened and he tensed once again in Asher's hold. "You want to-," he did not  finish only again tried to flee. Asher suddenly reversed their position, rolling  onto his back and pulling the struggling body on top of his own. His hold still  prevented escape but the new position stopped Jason's flight and had him gazing  down at Asher in surprise. Asher's hands now stroked the Jason's back and he  locked eyes with the were.

"I could roll your  mind, Jason, give you infinite pleasure. But that will not take away your fear.  You need to want this." Asher told him frankly, giving Jason a chance to calm  down.

Jason relaxed his  body on top of Asher's and forced himself to think rationally. "You did this for  Jean-Claude?" he asked.

"Yes. The first  time he was used in such a manner. We had been lovers before but he couldn't  bear my touch after the attack. He didn't want to soil what we had by those  memories. I simply replaced the bad memories with more pleasurable ones. Have  you never thought about what it would be like? Never asked Jean-Claude?"

Jason blushed. He  couldn't help it. Though he was no innocent, he hadn't done this before. But he  had thought about it. Had even asked Jean-Claude several years back. He loved  the way it felt when Jean-Claude fed. Loved the way Jean-Claude's body tightened  against his. But this? Willingly allow Asher to touch him, caress him? Fuck him?  He drew in a sharp breath. Just thinking about the pain chilled him. "I've  wondered, I guess."

"Well, now it's  time to find out. We'll take it slow. I don't want to scare you. We can stop at  any time." Asher rolled them so they were facing each other. Jason nodded his  assent. He was scared but he trusted Asher the way he trusted Jean-Claude.

For long minutes,  Asher just stroked Jason's body. Massaging it. If his fingers caught on a nipple  now and then, it clearly wasn't intentional. Gradually, Jason relaxed under his  ministrations. His body began to enjoy the smooth caresses. When Asher pressed  his lips to Jason's, he met them eagerly. He couldn't resist that mouth.

Jason's hands  moved almost of their own accord. He liked touching Asher. Liked the scarred  side of him almost as much as the smooth one. There was so much more to explore  and touch. Asher's indrawn breath was a balm to Jason's senses. He actually  wanted more. More of what Asher could do. "Roll me? Just a little?" he asked.

Asher understood  what he wanted. Just enough to heighten each sensation. It was easy to oblige  him. A pleasure really. He hadn't wanted to use mind control as a way to  overcome fear but Jason wasn't exactly afraid anymore.

Jason's body was  suddenly on fire. He could feel Asher in his mind, teasing and arousing him. His  body pressed ardently against the one under his and his arousal was hard and  heavy. Jason's crushed his lips against Asher's, taking the vampire's mouth. He  thrust his tongue in not caring that he cut himself on Asher's fangs. Jason's  hands roughly ran over the body under him.

Asher rolled, once  again settling heavily on Jason's body. The blood filling his mouth awakening  his own hunger and he took control of the kiss. Asher grabbed the wandering  hands and, lacing their fingers together; brought Jason's arms above his head.  Asher's knee pushed past Jason's legs, parting them so he could settle  in-between. He rotated his hips pressing their hard lengths together and  wringing a cry from the body below his.

Asher's mouth  released Jason's and he swept his tongue down the arched neck, biting and  licking. Asher released Jason's hands wanting the were to be free to touch and  take, unlike before. Jason tightly clutched Asher's head, arching up into that  hot mouth. He cried out as his nipples were sucked and gently bitten, a tongue  soothing any slight sting. Asher nibbled along the boy's ribs, sweeping his  tongue down to play with the navel before shifting to lye between the spread  thighs. His hands spread Jason's legs further apart and he licked at the head of  his cock swiping his tongue back and forth wringing cry after cry from Jason's  throat. He gave the were no time to react before he drew the organ deep into his  mouth swallowing around the hard column. Asher pressed palms hard against the  thrusting hips, controlling Jason's movements. He sucked and licked all the  length, humming around the flesh filling his throat.

Jason cried out as  he was swallowed whole. He fought the tight hold on his hips, needing to thrust  up into that wet heat that surrounded him. Jason cried out as his stomach  tightened. He used every ounce of his lycanthrope strength to arch high off the  bed as he poured himself down Asher's throat. Jason whimpered as Asher continued  to lick and suck gently on his softening length. His stomach and legs trembled  as the vampire's lips moved up over his body. Jason accepted the kiss, tasting  himself on Asher's tongue.

He could feel the  vampire's arousal pressing hard against his stomach and he had a moment of  apprehension. Memories washed over him and he tensed. "We can stop if you want,"  Asher offered. "But you are very close. Very close to experiencing the kind of  pleasure that many would kill for. Let me in, Jason. Let me show you." Jason's  body reawakened as Asher continued to stroke and kiss him.

Pleasure sang  through his blood and he found himself curious as to what Asher would taste  like. He remembered wondering. Asking Jean-Claude, who had stroked his hair and  whispered that the offer was appreciated but that he couldn't accept. It was  different now, in Asher's arms. Jason did not want the memory of the attack to  be the only thing his body recalled. He wanted that possession removed from his  skin, from his very mind, and he wanted the pleasure that Asher's touch  promised.

Jason freed his  lips and spoke low, only the vampire's hearing picking up his words. "Show me,  Asher," he pleaded.

Asher leaned back,  rising to kneel between Jason's legs. He reached down and pulled a bottle from  the side of the bed. Jason watched wide-eyed as Asher's opened the oil, the  fragrance of sandalwood filling the air. He swallowed, suddenly nervous as Asher  coated his fingers before setting the bottle back down. Asher brought a hand to  rest on the were's stomach, gentling him, while the other hand dropped between  Jason's legs. Jason tried not flinch as the wet finger circled his opening but  he could not control the gasp as the finger breeched him. Though his body had  healed, he was still tender.

Asher slowly  stretched Jason's entrance, scissoring his fingers before changing the angle. He  stroked over the bundle of nerves that was Jason's prostate gland, again and  again, watching the were's reactions carefully. Jason's body arched off the bed  every time Asher's fingers hit that spot inside him. He could not believe the  pleasure Asher's touch was giving him! Nor could he prevent his body from  thrusting back against those digits every time they breeched him. His hips  plunged up and down on Asher's fingers and he cried out when they were removed.

Asher slicked  himself heavily with the oil and placed Jason's legs on his shoulders. He slowly  pushed forward, pausing as the head passed the outer muscle, giving Jason's body  time to adjust. Jason panted as he was filled; none of the remembered pain was  there, only a very full feeling that wasn't unpleasant. Asher stopped once fully  inside the were. He waited for Jason's body to tell him when to proceed and  couldn't prevent his own moan when Jason's hips shifted under his. He pulled up,  slowly and thrust back in. "Sent bon?" he whispered. But Jason only could  moan in response. Asher rode Jason gently, pulling out almost completely before  thrusting fully back in.

Jason met each  thrust. His hips moving faster the deeper Asher stroked inside him; the rubbing  again and again over that spot inside him bringing stars behind his closed eyes.  Jason's hold on Asher tightened and his moans became louder. "Harder," he cried  out. Jason brought down his legs wrapping them tight around Asher's waist and  pulling the vampire deeper into him. Asher grunted at the strength of the were's  hold, his hips moving faster and faster as his own need rose. Asher reached  between them, grasping Jason's length in a strong fist. Once, twice he stroked  before the young wolf was howling and cuming across Asher's closed hand. The  clenching and tightening on his own length sent Asher over the edge and with two  more strong thrusts he came deep inside Jason.

Asher collapsed  heavily on Jason's body. They stayed that was for several silent moments, the  only sound their deep breathing. Finally Asher rolled over and tenderly eyed the  flushed were. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Jason rolled to  his side, surprise evident in his features. "I'm good. Better than good," he  huffed out voice still breathless. A grin of delight spread slowly across his  face.

Asher could not  help but laugh, very relived to see that grin return to Jason's face. "So," he  said. "Think you can handle Jean-Claude?"

Jason stretched,  arching his body in unconscious provocation. "Oh, yeah," he crooned.

Asher gave him one  more peck on the lips before rising and picking up his clothes. He dressed under  Jason's ardent eyes and made for the door.

"Asher," Jason called and the vampire stopped and looked back at the nude were.

"Yes?" he asked.

The smile dropped  from Jason's face for just a moment. "Thanks. Thanks for showing me what it's  supposed to be like."

"You are most welcome, mon ami. It was my pleasure."

"And if I need  more showing?" Jason asked, in a welcome return to his normal mischievous  behavior.

Asher shook his  head in amused relief. Jason would recover completely. "Ask your Master,  petite pomme," Asher replied as he closed the door behind him.

Jason bounced off  the bed, suddenly more than eager to be in his Master embrace once again.

The End