Page 60 of Where the River Meets the Skye

“I begged them to stop. I cried and screamed through the gag but they wouldn’t listen. And I hated myself when I came, because it felt like proof that I’d enjoyed it, or that I’d wanted it, even though I knew I didn’t. And they left me there, gagged and half naked, covered in cum, and I couldn’t stop shaking and vomiting and crying. And I wanted to rip my own skin off, so that I didn’t have to live in what they had touched, or look at it. I couldn’t stand to be in my own body. I felt so gross, so violated and ashamed, and I hated myself. I still do sometimes.”

River felt another kiss against his hair. “You are beautiful, River,” his husband said. “Inside and out. You shine so bright, baby. And you are not tainted. Not by what they did to you. Not by anything. You are so strong and amazing. And I love you. I’m so sorry that that is a part of your story. I wish to God it wasn’t.”

River soaked up Skye’s words and let them wash over him, let them wrap around his heart and absorb some of the grief and pain that had been eating away at him for so long. He’d never told Skye his whole story before. But getting it out, sharing it with the person he loved more than anything, the person he longed for, trusted and felt safe with, was allowing those broken pieces of him to heal, bit by bit.

“I don’t want to be reminded of what happened when I’m with you,” he said. “I want you in me, Skye.”

“We’ll figure it out. And if we can’t do it on our own, and you really want me in you, then there’s always counseling like we talked about, right? It’s probably not a bad idea for me to talk to your therapist anyway. It might help both of us. I’m on your side, angel.”

River nodded, sniffling, and wiped away tears. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. I kinda hate the idea of talking about our sex life with someone, though.”

Skye chuckled. “Trust me, angel, they’ve heard it all.”

“I know. And if it helps me get closer to you, I’ll do anything.”

TWO MONTHS LATER

Skye

“Look at me,” Skye said, gripping River’s face in his hands and gazing into his sapphire eyes. “You’re doing great. Breathe.” He took a deep breath in and held it, and River followed, before they both released. “Again,” Skye said, and they breathed in, held it for a count of five, and let it out. Skye stayed inside him, his cock not fully sheathed, but farther than it had ever been before. He grabbed his cologne off the nightstand and held it under River’s nose. “Breathe,” he said again, and River inhaled the scent of him, his body relaxing a bit more. “I’ve got you, angel. You’re here, right now, with me, and you’re safe. Breathe.” Another breath in and out.

After several more attempts at bottoming and having minimal success without his anxiety spiking, River had decided to see his therapist again and explain the situation to her. Skye had joined him for the session in order to support his husband, but also because he knew it would benefit him as well. This was about both of them, not just River, and he wanted to know what he could do to help.

She had been kind and attentive, and had assured them both that what they wanted was achievable, but might take some time. She had applauded River for his openness and honesty with Skye, saying how important it was in the healing process to communicate his wants, needs, and fears with his partner, that it would help build the love and trust between them and strengthen their emotional bond, which would in turn help with their physical bond.

Then she had reminded River of the tools he could use when his anxiety attacks surfaced, encouraging him to use them when he wasn’t having an attack so that they would be more readily available to him in the moments where he felt anxious or out of control. Skye knew River knew all of this after having been in therapy for a while, but it seemed like it was helping him to have a refresher, to remind him that he had tools to use when he needed them, and to have Skye by his side this time as well, absorbing everything he could.

She’d touched on coping mechanisms, such as breathing exercises, grounding techniques, like focusing on the senses, what he could see, touch, smell, taste, and hear in the moment, but had also given him some techniques specific to Skye, such as smelling Skye’s cologne or body wash, or even his deodorant, to help bring River back to the present, and to the fact that he was safe, and with the man he loved. She explained that smelling something familiar was actually the quickest way to access happy memories as the part of the brain connected to the sense of smell was also the one closest to the part of the brain responsible for memory. She had also recommended having something nearby of Skye’s to touch, that would help him when he was triggered, be it Skye himself, or something that reminded River of him, and their bond.

Other methods such as wiggling his toes or clenching and unclenching his fists could prove helpful as well. Or having a candy like a jolly rancher or a sour patch kid to suck on to help stimulate his salivary glands again, which halted when a person was afraid. This process could reactivate those glands, and remind River that he was in fact, safe.

Skye had purchased the sour patch kids, as River was most fond of them, and kept the bag on the nightstand in their bedroom, so they would have it when and if River needed it. He’d also placed his cologne there to give them quick access.

River had been using his coping techniques more and more over the past several weeks when he wasn’t having an attack, and Skye could tell he was determined to make this work. To have Skye inside of him, making love to him.

Practicing with the tools in his toolbox had fallen by the wayside for the past several months because of his health issues, but he was doing better now and seemed to have the time and energy to put towards this goal.

Skye had seen River gripping his wedding ring and twisting it around his finger like he used to do with his “Rise” ring, and realized it was because he was practicing grounding himself. The ring, its coolness, weight, and probably the fact that it was a reminder of his union to Skye, seemed to ground him most of all.

They had tried penetrative sex two or three nights a week now for the past several weeks and River had made slow, steady progress. He’d lasted longer and longer each time Skye had entered him, by using the techniques their therapist had suggested, Skye coaching him when necessary. It wore River out, each and every time, but Skye knew they were getting there, and he was so damn proud of River.

“Should I keep going or come out?” Skye asked.

River took another deep breath, opening and closing his fists, then reached around and gripped his ring over Skye’s back. He looked into Skye’s eyes a second later. “Keep going,” he said, determination in his voice.

Skye didn’t argue. He pushed forward, his gaze locked with River’s as his husband continued to take deep breaths in and out. Skye had tears stinging at the corners of his eyes when he finally bottomed out.

“You okay?” he asked, and River nodded. He still looked like he was having a hard time, but he was focused, present, and breathing in and out calmly.

“I’m safe,” River whispered. He breathed in and out again. “I’m safe.”

Skye rested his forehead against River’s and sighed. “You’re safe.” He could feel River still playing with his ring over his back, could feel his chest rising and falling underneath him steadily. “I love you so much, baby. And I’m so freaking proud of you.”

River smiled softly as tears filled his eyes. “I love you, too,” he said. He reached up to brush the hair back from Skye’s eyes.

Skye smiled. He pressed a kiss to River’s forehead, which was slick with sweat. “I’m gonna come out now. You look exhausted.” His husband had done so well, but he was clearly worn out from everything, and Skye didn’t want to push him, emotionally or physically. So he pulled out slowly and they held each other as they drifted to sleep.

River

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