Page 100 of Love Limits

Zhong was really starting to see it now, everything that he’d read about and the feelings Dustin had described.

Ash didn’t need his help. They were just knee pads. But when he strapped them on, he was taking on a role. He was Ash’s protector and support for this special act that meant so much to them. It was… kind of a rush.

Next came the tail on its black leather frame that went around their waist and up between their legs. After Ash stepped into it and Zhong secured the fastenings, Ash did a little skipping dance of excitement that made the tail wiggle. It was pretty cute.

Then Ash stopped explaining and just got down on their hands and knees and nudged their head toward the mask. It was fascinating watching them transform before his eyes into a small, rambunctious canine. All of their body language shifted entirely, like some new being had taken their place.

Zhong picked up the mask and just held it for a moment, watching Ash who was watching him expectantly, their whole body vibrating with excitement. When he paused too long, Ash nudged his hand again, butting against the mask with their forehead.

Zhong carefully buckled it on, feeling like he’d been entrusted with some sacred responsibility. It was so clear that Ash loved this, and also how necessary the Handler’s role was. Not just in buckling a few straps, but in keeping Ash safe when he let himself go.

Ash cocked their head to the side, as if testing out the weight of the mask. He could still see most of their face clearly through the large eye holes, and the jaunty ears just made everything come together.

It was somehow like all of the best parts of their personality, their curiosity and exuberance and delight, had all come together into one concentrated set of movements.

Ash nosed into his hand and then licked his fingers. It was cute in a way he hadn’t imagined, and also a nice confirmation that he’d gotten the mask right.

He picked up the first mitt, but Ash was already nosing at his feet. He tapped their shoulder and held out his hand, palm up. It was what he’d seen people do when they trained their dogs to shake.

Ash looked at him curiously, head cocked to the side, then put one fisted hand onto his palm. Good dog, he praised.

Ash wiggled from head to tail. Oh, this was really fun.

He tied on the first paw. He was pretty sure that the other pups who he’d seen out in the lobby wore gloves to protect their knuckles but they left their fingers free. He thought there was one whose hands were balled up into mitts like these, but he was with a Handler who seemed to be much more into the controlling aspects of the kink.

Zhong realized then, which should have already been obvious, that he was taking away Ash’s speech. Without their hands, Ash wouldn’t be able to sign. With their mouth covered by the doggy snout, Zhong wouldn’t be able to read their lips, not that they’d ever communicated that way before. He’d have to figure out everything that Ash needed and wanted just by paying attention to their body language.

This was a deep responsibility. He worried for a moment that he wasn’t ready for it.

Do you have gloves with fingers? he asked. Was he even supposed to ask Ash questions like this? It was all moving pretty quickly.

Ash nosed at the bag.

Can we take them just in case?

Ash pushed the bag toward him, just an inch, but enough to communicate the point. He fished out two black and teal gloves, well-worn at the knuckles and soft with use.

The mitts, in comparison, were stiff and pristine. Are these new?

Ash lifted their head like they were barking. Were they barking? Could they hear it? They hadn’t worn their hearing aids at all, which they usually didn’t around him.

Either way, they were excited and happy and… they were trusting him to put their hands – paws – into mitts which would leave him responsible for all of their communication. Maybe for the first time. The thought almost gave him goosebumps.

He slipped on the second mitt. It felt sacred, like that quiet holiness he’d experienced sometimes when visiting religious services.

Though Ash was entirely too playful for something as serious as religion. Still, there was something transcendent about accepting that act of trust.

Once it was buckled, Ash immediately dropped to the floor to start wandering around. The mitt kept their hands fisted so that they were walking on their knuckles with the little teal paw prints on the floor. They seemed to use a mixture of walking on their knees and bouncing up to their feet, clad in black grippy socks, when they wanted to move faster.

After a few tentative practice moves, they started jumping and pouncing, tail wagging and head up in excitement. They circled the bench where Zhong sat twice. It was fucking adorable.

Zhong had to pat his thigh—part of the actual sign for DOG—to get Ash’s wandering attention again. This was apparently why Handlers needed treats.

Ash scampered over and pounced on him, paws on his chest and what would clearly have been little licks across his face if only Ash’s tongue were long enough.

He took a few minutes to scratch behind their ears, digging his fingers into their curly hair with one hand while using the other to balance them enough that they didn’t both fall off the bench.

Ash’s euphoria was contagious. It was almost like a drug, this immense feeling of joy that suffused him. It was like Ash’s whole body had turned into this conduit of exhilaration and bliss, and Zhong got to feel all of it right along with them.