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“Thank you for letting me borrow these!” Gangle hummed sweetly, fiddling with her red ribbon hands as she picked up a few spare parts from Zooble’s collection. She’d asked for some of the stranger ones for a craft project, and Zooble didn’t really have much use for them anyway. They were collecting dust anyway.
Zooble rubbed their mismatched arm, leaning back against their strikingly painted wall. “Honestly, you can just keep them. It’s not like they have much use anyway.” Gangle turned their head, giving them a shy but appreciative smile.
“Really?”
“I mean, sure.” Zooble mumbled. They were happy if Gangle was. She held the pieces close to her would-be chest and beamed.
“Oh, thank you so much!” The girl squealed, hugging one of Zooble’s arms. It was a jagged yellow criss-cross extender, with a claw at the end. “There’s some other rejects under my desk, if you’d like them.”
Gangle hugged their arm a little tighter, nodding enthusiastically. She pulled away and took the neon polyester rucksack from it’s hiding spot.
“You won’t feel them, right?”
“Hm? No, not really. I haven’t worn any of them recently, the sensation usually goes away after a few days.” They helped put the arm pieces into the bag. “Why?”
“Well, I was thinking of making a little figurine from some of them, but if you felt me cutting it up, I wouldn’t want to.” She hung over herself, looking for reassurance again.
“Mhm, well, I’ll be fine. I doubt I’d feel anything, but even if I did, nothing I haven’t felt before.”
Gangle gave a little laugh.
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Sleeping was always the most difficult part of Zooble’s day. They were forced to stare at the dark polka-dots on the ceiling of their room and drift into a state of nothingness. They used to have insomnia, barely sleeping five hours a week, back before the circus- before they became a bundle of spare pieces from Caine’s collection. Nowadays, they could sleep every night, but it never made them feel particularly rested.
They usually smoked or jerked off whenever they were restless- two options that were positively out of the question here. Most nights they simply lugged through everything that happened; moments that annoyed them, things they’d seen. If that didn’t work, they’d count down from 500. Anything to get over the undeniable feeling of unease at their own body. The wall of funhouse-like mirrors didn’t make it easier. Every time they rolled over, they’d be greeted with an uneasy view of their pawed foot or peg leg. They’d grumble and yank the blanket over themselves.
It was hot today- the room was humid and the air still. It wasn’t like there was anywhere to get fresh air from anyway. They didn’t even have windows. Zooble rested their plastic hand on their midsection, adjusting their head on their pillow. Restless and sweaty- two of their least favourite emotions. No wonder they were so grumpy, they were exhausted.
They were about to sit up and give up for the day when they felt a sharp twang between the null space in their legs. They grunted, louder than they’d anticipated, and grabbed at their groin in shock.
What the hell was that?!
Once the initial shock wore off, they were treated to a new sensation entirely. Pleasure- like gently settling themselves by the entrance of a woman. They clutched the sheets, leaning back. In all their years here, they had never felt something even close to that. It seemed to close, so real, yet so far away too. They had nothing there, but still the tingling persisted.
A minute passed whilst it tapered away, and their chest heaved a few broken breaths. They were willing to write it off as a glitch or a state of hypnagogia, but then they felt it again. Deeper, more intimate, more desperate. The feeling of being lined up, the wetness that came with it, and then the neediness of their tip. It was impossible, wasn’t it? Last time they asked for this sort of thing, Caine had almost crashed! Their legs shook a bit, almost thrusting to the sensation in itself.
They hadn’t realised how much they’d missed it until now. They’d thought about sex daily, but they forgot how heavenly the feelings that came with it. The intimacy, the sensation of being one with another. The closeness and the touch. They struggled not to moan- the walls here were thin, and Jax would certainly never let them hear the end of it.
Whatever it was, slipped past the barrier and down what felt like the entirety of their length. Zooble clasped their hand over their mouth, struggling to keep their legs from shaking. They squeezed their eyes shut tightly, giving into it. Ecstasy traced over their face as they felt the sensation of moving. They rolled their hips with it.
Gangle, it had to be. What exactly was she planning to do with their parts? They knew she could be a bit raunchy, but she wasn’t a pervert by any stretch. Up, down, up, down. Zooble began rubbing the smooth part between their legs to the pace. They’d tossed a small peg piece into the bag yesterday. It was long and almost cylindrical in shape with a cone-like top. It wasn’t phallic by any means, but if someone really tried.. It could definitely work in a pinch. They'd only found it difficult to balance with.
Their hands quickened at the thought of Gangle. What was she doing to them? Why did the thought of her, pressing herself down on them make them almost finish on the spot? Why did they never think of her like that before?
Was Gangle thinking of them like this too? Was it because it was handy, or was it because it was them? Did Gangle think about them when she touched herself? Did she ever think of them like they thought about her?
It came to a zenith, and Zooble gave a shaky (and far too loud) moan as they uselessly rode themselves out on their hand. They laid on their mattress, sweaty, exhausted and flustered.
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They sat at the communal area with everyone aside from the resident ribbon. Jax and Ragatha were arguing about something callous. Jax caught their eye every time they glanced over and shot them a shit-eating grin, as if to say, “I know.” They just ignored him. He had nothing on them- he was just an asshole.
Eventually, the comedy masked woman came over to the group, shyly fiddling with the split ends of her strips. She caught Zooble’s gaze and gave a meek wave.
They leaned against the couch, squinting slightly. They’d smirk if they could.
“Morning Gangle.”