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eureka-its-zico · 1 year

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Kiss Me and My Bones Turn to Ash

Synopsis: You get introduced to Mito in the worst way possible.

A/N: I love AU’s like this. This was a long time coming, but finely, this WIP is seeing the light of day after some long months. I tried to make it 5k words or less, but apparently, 7.3k is the smallest I can do. I hope DPR fans (and even nonfans) enjoy this little one-shot of mine. As always, much love, Jenn

Pairing: DPR IAN x Reader

Genre: Demon!Mito, Demon AU,

Word count: 7368

Warnings: dark themes, sacrificial themes, light BDSM, smut, blood, light gore mentioned, there is some dirty shit in here y’all. Mentions of drug-use

Your throat was raw and your skin ached.

Raw from screaming and attempting to struggle out of the many hands that gripped your arms and legs. Your one last shot at freedom echoing between cypress trees and an endless midnight sky. Multiple hands stripped away every last shred of dignity from your body until there was nothing left but tears that flowed freely down makeup smeared cheeks down to naked skin.

You were defenseless as these intrusive hands came by the dozens - yanking and pulling you down dirt paths deeper inside the forest.

It didn’t matter how your voice rose in a crescendo of despair; the fear worming its way deeper inside your gut. The small hope you’d held onto that someone - anyone - would save you died the minute your bloodied back met cool stone.

You continued to give them a fight as they spread you like a star across the midnight stone of their altar. You wouldn’t make it easy for them. While they treated you like something disposable, you knew your life meant something to you with all the moments you’d never see flashing wildly behind frantic eyes.

It wasn’t until the ropes cut painfully deep into the skin of your ankles and wrists that you felt the last grain of hope die in your chest. The prayers to whoever was listening, cracking one last time and washing out to silence as a wolf howled somewhere off in the distance.

No one was listening to the sounds of your prayers - or so you thought. It wasn’t until later you’d learned he’d been walking beside you, as they dragged you through dirt and rocks that cut into your skin. He watched and listened as you thrashed and cursed them with your own hatred bubbling molten hot beneath muscles and bone.

He watched and waited for the perfect time to peel free from the shadows and find his new home inside you.

Cloaked men came together to form a tight circle around the altar. Their arms raised up along with their voices in a deep chant that you swore made even the branches on the trees tremble. Was it Latin? Aramaic? The only ones who knew were the voices of the men and whatever god they were praying to.

You were trying to catch a glimpse around the edge of the hood of someone’s clock - was that Devin from microbiology? - when a knife started to carve shallow lines across your stomach.

A fresh wave of screams rose from your throat. The sound was lost inside the ominous chanting of men with hidden faces and the night. You knew your thrashing was pointless. You weren’t miraculously going to develop superhuman powers and Hulk your way free from your restraints.

So, with each descending cut down your abdomen you snarled, “Fuck you!” In their direction. Your fear was bleeding away into something carnal - something worthy of savagery. No longer did you want them to see you weeping for a God to save you. If you were dying, it would be with defiance in your eyes and skin in your teeth.

Another seething retort was flaring to life on your tongue when you noticed him, and that was when your world completely shifted.

You had to be hallucinating him. A sadistic trick of your own mind to find comfort in…what? He didn’t seem real. He couldn’t be. But there he was. Over the shoulders of these hooded men, at the backdrop of the forest, he paced around them. His eyes pitiless and empty except for what looked like a blue spark of flame. His thumb traced the bottom of a pouty lower lip with the top of his Cupid bow curling into something sinister. You were watching him - you’d seen him and for some reason it brought him joy. He seemed amused, whoever he was, and that amusement sent that blue spark into a flame that lit up the entire iris of his eyes.

He was handsome. The kind of handsome Roman sculptors looked for as a muse when carving into marble. You were willing to bet that there were dozens of odes and poems written just about him. Dark long hair framed his features and somehow made the pout of his lips more exaggerated. The edges touched the collar of his black trench coat that framed wide shoulders. Shoulders that spoke volumes of muscles that rippled with power and seduction: that left thousands begging for forgiveness for following any that wasn’t him. His jawline was razor sharp and the bones of his cheeks raised high. A part of you wanted to call him Apollo, but deep down you knew if he was a God he could only have one name.

Hades.

The chanting came to an end and with it the carving. You didn’t want to turn away from him - your lord of the underworld - but your curiosity took hold. You wanted to see what these bastards had done.

You didn’t yell or scream when you saw the drizzles of blood that ran like heavy syrup down your sides. The crudely cut shape of a pentagram carved into the soft flesh of your abdomen.

He could’ve done better.

It felt fucked up to think that way but you were all out of tears and if you were going to die you at least wanted it to look better than resembling a carved-up Christmas ham. The enter situation began fucked up from the minute you woke up inside a cell and only worsened with each passing hour. If only you hadn’t accepted that stupid invitation maybe then you’d be home in your room eating discounted Oreos and on to your next Netflix binge.

The regret built thick and thicker on your tongue until it made it impossible to swallow past the growing rage. Or maybe your throat was just raw from all the unanswered pleading you’d done - you were done crying. If you were going to die you refused to let it happen with fresh tears in your eyes.

You took in a heavy breath and let yourself grow rigid - hard and hollow - ready to curse them and show them your defiance. It didn’t matter if it was a pitiful last attempt at acting like you had any semblance of control. You weren’t going down begging.

“Fuck-“

You. That’s how it should’ve finished.

Instead, one of the hooded assholes - Jisoon from economics, it looked like - let out a gasp. If you were under better circumstances, you would’ve made fun of him.

“It’s you! Oh, my lord!”

His body collapsed down to his knees. His arms out in front of him in what he must have thought resembled reverence. In actuality, he looked more like he was afraid.

Groups of hooded heads turned to see what made their brother fall to his knees. Your own head included. You weren’t entirely sure why you needed to look. You knew he was there.

You’d felt him long before your eyes ever gazed upon him.

He manifested from darkness. The shadows cast down by the moonlight from trees, bushes, and rock slithered to create his form and once he was made he stepped out into the clearing. The second the group of eyes fell on his darkened figure they followed down on their knees. Their faces buried in the dirt where their praises fell from their lips to the soil.

“What are you praising? The dirt? Fuckin’ idiots,” you snarled.

If you’re going to worship something - someone - you look it in the eyes. Let them feel your devotion like a plague.

One of them looked at you then. His hatred was evident on his face. If he could, you were sure he would’ve spit on you. If you could, you would’ve strangled him with the rope he left you to die in.

“Dark lord - foul one - we bring you the offering that you have desired.”

Besides the long dark coat he wore underneath was a graphic shirt that reminded you of a Rorschach painting. Black designs flooded the white material until it took on different shapes. It was tucked inside black denim that hugged his thighs and dove inside black combat boots.

If he really was a demon he was not only the most ridiculously good-looking one out there, but self-consciously stylish.

Your head dropped back against the stone. Your wrists and ankles are still tightly spread and trapped by the ropes that hold you bound in place. You want to keep looking at him. The desire to look at him was overwhelming, but your body was too weak to fight the exhaustion of holding yourself up.

He walked calmly into the circle they created with you at the center. His eyes took you in and you swore you could feel the trail they took along your body. You felt a need so violent suddenly flash under your skin your wrists jerked against the rope. A whimper of urgency to plead with him to touch you almost escaped your lips, but you caught it and swallowed it back down.

A sexy smirk played across his lips. As if the son of a bitch knew what he almost made you do in a sacrificial circle with you as the main star.

Fresh anger brewed in your stomach and you were ready to spit it out at his feet when you blinked and he was just there. His hand clasped tight to your cheeks in warning as his obsidian eyes of flame met yours.

“I wouldn’t do that, little lamb.”

You would have told him to shove it if he wasn’t holding on to your face so painfully tight.

“Is this all you brought me?”

Well, that was fucking rude.

“Lord Mito- “

One of the hooded assholes from earlier began to rise from his knees. This guy makes himself the preverbal leader of this merry band of idiots. He was on his way up from a one-knee position when Mito stopped him. His only other free hand halted him in place.

At first, you thought it was nothing more than a gesture. He was staying still because his master instructed him to do so. It didn’t hit you that it could’ve been something else until you noticed his pale complexion begin to darken to crimson. The other hooded assholes now looking around in uncertainty and - something you truly enjoyed - fear.

“You come to me - like your parents - to make deals for your Ivy League tuitions with riches and recognition and you come bearing fruit from only one tree. You ungrateful roaches.”

With each word he spoke the boys began to writhe on the ground. Their identities exposed to you the way they’d exposed you to their treachery - naked and alone - to a demon for slaughter just so they wouldn’t need to try hard at life. Some of them you’d thought were your friends.

“We have more! We can get you more!”

“There are tons of these drunk bitches back at the house.”

More drugged women they meant. More women like you who were dumb enough to take their betrayal as friendship. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted revenge. It stoked the dying fire of rage that was left in your gut and made it new.

For a moment, you blinked, and your entire world evaporated into darkness. A part of you screamed as you tore your face free from his hands to stay put - to be a good girl.

What had being a good girl ever got you but sacrificing yourself until you end up on some fucked up altar in the woods.

You were surprised when Mito didn’t turn his grip tighter to hold you in place. He didn’t try to keep you in place and was willing to let you go. Your defiant eyes staring up into his that flashed with mirth.

“I have a better offer for you.”

Your voice was hoarse. Hours of begging for your life will do that to you. Now it felt like its own premonition. Maybe to begin again all of what held you back needed to be stripped away in fire and blood to show you what you were capable of becoming.

“Shut up, you whore.”

It was Carl - sweet coffee shop Carl - who lashed out at you then. His words full of a frantic need to keep you quiet. Mito’s head tilted in his direction giving Carl only a sideways glance before a hand moved into view. His middle and ring finger making a swift motion up sending Carl up into the air.

When Mito spoke the rich baritone of his voice grew darker. The night itself shifted back as if whatever words he hummed in Latin were more terrifying than what resided inside it. You watched as Carl tried to scream as his body contorted in an ungodly way. Blood pulled from the corners of his mouth and eyes with unspoken words gargling out his agony.

“I don’t expect any further interruptions, children” Mito snarled with Carl dropping in a twisted - and very dead - heap on the forest floor. “I smell a deal coming. Please, little lamb, continue.”

Your tongue flicked across your cracked lips. Your hesitancy dying off as soon as you watched his hungry eyes follow their movement.

“I offer you them.”

A crescendo of yelling rose as a wave around you. The men who sought to end your life with brutality did not seem to enjoy losing their lives the same way. How funny.

Mito made a swift turning motion with his hand and pulled it close to his chest. In the span of the same heartbeat it took to do it all the screaming stopped. He’d stripped them of their voice.

“If I wanted them I would have them.”

You shook your head hard once to deflect his claim.

“That’s not true. If that was the case, they would already be dead. Especially Carl. You’re stuck in some weird servitude thing. I bet you can’t even leave this area.” An unnatural cold wind rushed over your skin. It involuntarily caused your hands to grab at your bindings as a shiver ran across your body igniting it in goosebumps. “I can offer you all of them. All twelve of them along with my servitude and the release to feed freely as you wish until I’m dead.”

Everything appeared to grow still as his eyes searched your face. Was that excitement in his eyes? You couldn’t tell at first but realized the growing flames that seemed to leap up endlessly past his iris wasn’t because of anger. It was the thought of new prospects. A freedom to feed in a way he’d been denied after however long he’d been summoned.

Mito began to slowly lean down towards your face and you struggled not to turn away. The fire in his eyes created the illusion that you were falling further into hell and, maybe you were. Strangely enough - for him - you were willing to burn.

“You’ve got a deal, little lamb,” he breathed across your lips just before he crushed his mouth against yours.

You shouldn’t have thought of it as a kiss. It was visceral - every part of you fought against your ropes, digging the thread deeper into your flesh just to feel his pouty lips envelope over yours. The tip of his tongue moved across your lower lip, asking for entrance, and you gladly gave it.

You opened to him without hesitation and Mito deepened the kiss. He used his tongue to open you up further; cracking your lips and smearing it against his own. At the first hint of copper on your tongue Mito let out a moan that made you strain against your bindings. The sound was pure sin. It was the promise of pleasure and pain - of being torn apart and made anew.

When he tore his mouth away from you in a snarl, you almost screamed out in frustration, but the twelve hooded assholes who you’d offered up did it for you.

You couldn’t see all that well what was happening in the clearing around you. The sounds of screaming resonated back inside the night sky once more, but this time it no longer was yours. You listened as some ended abruptly while others gurgled around throats full of blood just before their end. The sound of flesh and thicker things landing with a plop on the dirt made your stomach flip. Splashes of blood rained down on you and you squeezed your eyes shut tight.

It felt like an eternity before the screaming stopped abruptly after the sound of a boot crunching the bones of someone’s neck. You could hear the wind move across the leaves and scatter them over objects - maybe bodies, maybe rocks - and branches. It became so eerily quiet that you wondered if the whole thing had been a dark part of your imagination.

Maybe you’d open your eyes and find yourself back inside the party. Your friend handing you a warm beer as you danced to a remix of some song that you didn’t know half the words too. It was a good thought - a great one, actually - but one you knew wasn’t going to be true.

When you opened your eyes a hurricane of emotion billowed up in your chest and threatened to release from your lips. Mito was floating above you, his eyes completely consumed with the flames that earlier had only shown like dying embers. Now, the fires were completely stoked by the souls of the corpses littered around you.

A devilish smile showcasing perfectly white teeth raised his lips as he watched you swallow down your fear. You could’ve sworn they all looked very sharp and pointy, but just like his eyes you watched as they all but disappeared. The only thing left to show for what had happened was a naked torso covered in tattoos and streaked with blood.

“Are you afraid?”

You licked your lips as you tried to think of how to answer and watched as hungry eyes followed the movement once more.

“It depends on what you mean by afraid,” you answered him softly. “Am I afraid of being in your debt? No. Am I afraid of you? Yes.”

His finger dragged along your cheek and followed the curve of your face. You thought he would stop there and gasped as he traced it further down to your throat, over your chest, and to the curve of your breast.

“You’re smart to be afraid of me,” he replied huskily. His body was no longer floating above you but was now being held up by his own weight. “But I promise to take good care of you, little lamb as long as you promise to do the same for me in return.”

His head dipped to the curve of your neck to press a soft kiss just below your ear. The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t something you’d prepared for. You’d expected him to be brutal; to take without remorse. Instead, Mito pressed his lips softly against your skin as if to tell it a secret.

It didn’t seem possible, but as his lips glided down your throat and to the hollow of your collarbone an ache began to grow hot and molten in your blood. He placed one last kiss between your breasts before his tongue dragged a hot line down close to the carved flesh of your stomach.

You were aware of his hand as it crept up your thigh. Mito made sure he took his time with every inch his fingers took - tracing over the dips in your hip and over the mound of your pussy. Constantly he teased you - getting close and pulling away - and never let you have an inch of relief.

A whimper was rising in your chest. Your hands no longer docile as they struggled to loosen the hold of the ropes at your wrists just so you could lace your fingers roughly in his hair. Mito’s tongue ran over the top point of the pentagram causing a hiss of surprised pain to rush past your lips. You wanted to move away from his wandering tongue as it continued to explore the open wound, but a strong hand held you in place.

Mito worked his mouth over the botched grooves of your stomach - cleaning up the last remnants of your fucked up night. A growl was growing louder deep within his chest, humming against your skin, just before he shoved his tongue brutally into the open wound.

The pain tore the air from your lungs. The scream you would’ve unleashed was stolen by silence and two thick fingers pushing themselves past your folds until they were knuckle deep inside you.

You wish you could say that your body fought him - your thighs had clenched shut around his arm or your hips made it impossible for him to enter you. That he didn’t find your pussy dripping and eager for him. None of that would be true, however.

Your body accepted him like a zealot to a newfound religion, and his fingers pushing past your folds to fuck you had your hips rising up to meet him with devotion.

“Please,” you hummed.

You didn’t care that you were begging. You were ready to shout for him to go further - deeper - when he inserted a third finger. The feeling of your pussy stretching followed by the overwhelming sense of fullness caused you to buck against the rock. The movement forced your stomach up into his hungry mouth causing his tongue to go deeper into the cut.

The stinging sensation should’ve been enough to bring you back to your senses - a warning that this was fucked; you shouldn’t be enjoying this - but Mito made your body crave his pleasure through brutality.

His wrist began to pump his fingers in deep, curling and stretching you until you came impossibly undone. Every time he pulled back - his fingers entering you anew - he went impossibly deeper. His fingers curl enough to hold the breath in your lungs and tear it free when his thumb curved up and pressed down on your clit.

A wet squelching noise began to rise up around you. It was lewd - complete filth that mixed itself together with the sloppy sounds of his mouth hungrily cleaning up the dried blood surrounding the pentagram. Your cheeks would usually burn red hot with embarrassment at the sounds being made, but when Mito’s thumb began to apply pressure as his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, fingers still fucking you, you couldn’t find a reason to care.

With a thick pop, Mito removed his mouth from your wound. Fresh blood - your blood - outlined his puffy lips. He made no move to go back to your chest or do anything. His fire filled eyes did not stop from watching as you writhed beneath him.

“Tell me: I want you to tell me to whom you belong.”

His voice was sin. It was sex - something ancient and primal that blossomed inside you like blood on a white shirt. It made your body needy as his thumb stroked in time with his fingers as they pushed inside your cunt.

“You - fucc it’s you.”

“You’ll do what I ask of you. No questions asked.”

His curled fingers touched something deep inside you. Something that clawed a mewling sound out from between your lips and made your body struggle anew against your restraints. You knew Mito wanted an answer. The irritation was creasing that pretty brow of his and making his hairline drop to greet them.

The same irritation stoked the flame in his eyes from cobalt blue to crimson. Mito thrusted his fingers one last time into you before he removed them. If he was trying to punish you he was too late.

That last thrust - with the hard rub of his thumb against your clit - sent you barreling over the edge. Your orgasm hit you violently and fast and you found yourself wetting the front of his chest.

“Dirty girl,” he huffed. “You got me all wet.”

He moved along your body until you were eye level. Your body was still trembling underneath him when his fingers laced themselves at the base of your scalp and pulled. A yelp leapt out of you as Mito’s free hand took hold of your jaw and held your mouth open.

You watched as he accumulated salvia at the edge of his lips. Your brain barely registered what he was doing until he spit it inside your open - waiting - mouth and forced it closed.

“Swallow.”

The demand was fire. A promise of punishment if you disobeyed. You wish you could’ve said it was disgusting. The taste of blood - your blood - and brimstone staining the inside of your mouth and coating your throat pissed you off. That you fought against him and told him to fuck off. In all actuality, it only made your cunt clench down on nothing.

Once you swallowed it you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue out just to show him you’d been good. Done as he asked. The gesture alone sent a devilish smirk to curl across those pretty lips.

“Good girl. Now let me hear you say it.”

Oh. Right. “I’ll do what you ask of me, Mito. No questions.”

“I expect you to hold up your end of our deal tonight, little lamb.”

“I always keep my promises.”

You were trying to sound cheeky. Instead, it simply came out breathless. Mito was still staring down at you like you held the world he wanted to destroy and fuck if it wasn’t making it hard to think past the growing heat between your legs.

Slowly, Mito lowered himself closer to you and only stopped when his lips hovered a mere inch above yours.

“That remains to be seen.”

The baritone of his voice whispering against your lips sent your body into hyperdrive. You were ready to beg him to fuck you when he dropped the last inch and placed a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth.

The sheer softness of it startled you. Your eyes went wide as he pulled himself off of you and finally your makeshift altar. He was moving around you carefree. His movements slow and careful as he picks up his shirt and jacket out of the viscera and carnage he’d strewn across the fall leaves.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little lamb.”

This asshole! Now your eyes were wide for another reason. You reached your arms up as high as you could raise them before giving the ropes at your wrist a shake.

“Ugh, hello? Are you just going to leave me like this in the woods?”

Mito stopped at the edge of the clearing and regarded where you were like you were complaining about being in a five-star hotel. His shrug only set a fire to blaze in your blood.

“It did cross my mind.”

“That’s gonna be a huge no for me.”

“You mean, you don’t like being tied naked to a rock in the middle of the woods?” He teased, with an eyebrow cocked.

“Tempting, but no. Not in the slightest.”

“Very well,” he shrugged. “See you soon, little lamb.”

Mito disappeared back inside the darkness he was born from, and you were ready to scream. To threaten to take your deal back when you threw up a middle finger at his exit and realized the rope was gone.

Thank god - whoever - for spooky favors.

You weren’t a smoker - still weren’t - but if offered you took one. From curious bartenders, frat parties with social smokers, and the ever-present sleazy drunks who assumed you must be a whore pressed so close to the shadows of the brick buildings Mito liked to frequent.

The only whore you were was his.

Of course, you were sure the only reason you let the toxic trash touch your lips was the same reason you drank in excess when he was gone. You weren’t entirely sure when you first noticed it. The emptiness you felt at small pleasures you used to enjoy became a distant memory.

When was the last time you truly enjoyed a milkshake? A damn good Lumberjack-style breakfast or a warm cup of coffee? These days it seems you need multiple milkshakes to really taste the sweetness of the cream or the artificial flavoring of candy. You need dozens of pancakes and a mountain of syrup to even begin to feel full.

No. When Mito was gone there was no fulfillment in anything. You were a bottomless pit of wants and craving and the only thing that could ease the burden of that unfashionable emptiness was him.

At first, you didn’t want to believe such a thing could happen, but the more he stayed away the more you felt the black hole of longing begin to brew inside your gut. You wondered if anyone else could see it; the desperate way you tried to fill it. No matter what you tried nothing could ease the ache of nothingness until he reappeared. Your knight in his all-consuming darkness.

When he would simply appear from the shadows or come up quietly from behind you while you sat on a bar stool, his hands covering your eyes and a devious, “Guess who?” cascading down your senses, you felt whole again. Complete. A fucked up missing puzzle piece finally fitting back in its rightful place.

Maybe this is what it meant to be soulless. A hollowed-out version of who you were that only knew relief by the hands of the devil.

You spent weeks since that night at the party - from your little adventure in the forest - before you saw Mito again. When he finally re-emerged for the first time that night with his hands hovering over your eyes you didn’t need to hear the husk of his tone to know it was him.

Your skin had become feverish with a desire so deep it felt like you’d taken a sledgehammer to the gut at just the heat of him pressed against your back. All the life you’d felt slipped out of you day by day, everything you loved and that made you-you suddenly was coming back with blaring clarity.

The second Mito’s warmth retreated from your back, your legs were swinging the bar stool around to follow him. He was moving to sit in the empty stool next to you. His feet barely touched down on the grimy linoleum floor before you were on him.

You secured your arms around his shoulders and, to his apparent surprise, used the momentum of your body rocking into his to pull him towards you. You weren’t giving him a second to speak or deny you any longer. With a hand secured at the nap of his neck, and the other twinning inside the soft silk of his shirt, you crashed his pouty lips down on yours. Your tongue darting to trace a request for him to open up to you.

Mito didn’t make you wait long.

As suddenly as you’d taken hold of him Mito took hold of you - trapped you - in his arms. His kiss devoured you; ate and tasted up every whimpering plea his tongue stroking over yours coaxed from your chest.

You felt alive. You felt whole again.

Every sinew - every nerve of your body crackled with electricity, and as Mito’s hands glided up the back of your thighs you swore you could’ve become a storm.

The both of you had stumbled into the bars’ back bathroom. The door held together by makeshift locks letting you know the entire place heard every moan he’d torn from you as he fucked you. When his cock bottomed out - so incredibly deep - between your folds and left you coming all over the edge of the bathroom sink, you knew that the whole entire bar heard.

Later that night, Mito made two deals with two grimy-looking fucks. They weren’t into specifics of the deals they tried to make, and that was the thing about demons. Specifics. They were wordy bastards - great at mind games and twisting phrases and promises around until it sounded like a sweet deal, but the fine print was always missed. Needless to say, the two men had made their own separate deals that night. Neither one of them made it to see the sunrise.

After that night, Mito allowed you to travel with him. When you made yourself useful and found him unsuspecting souls full of grief and gluttony and, Mito’s personal favorite, rage. He particularly enjoyed the souls that looked sweet on the outside; soft and sincere sounding with their crosses around their necks. Underneath all of that tried-hard smile was something sinister; something Mito claimed to be the sweetest flavor of sin.

You weren’t sure how all of his deals were struck. You were positive the women, and some of the men, probably asked for the deal to be sealed with a kiss. Sex. Not all of them prefer a handshake and words of good faith. One guy, in particular, wanted the deal to be sealed with a little flame, making Mito do a weird magic trick of using his finger like a candle.

Yeah, that was a weird one.

None of them made it past a week. Some - if they were lucky - got a few months.

That’s how you ended up backstage in a band’s dressing room. You’d met the lead singer at a club they’d been performing at. He’d sauntered up to the bar pressing the crotch of his jeans against your ass and tried to play it off like he was just leaning against the bar - waiting for a drink just like you.

The dislike for him was instant.

You allowed yourself to listen to him ramble. His pickup lines were incredibly atrocious. He thought being in a band made him instantly fuckable.

The only way you saw out of your predicament was to play into it and invite him to meet Mito. There were four other members in their group - four other people to come along for the ride. It didn’t take long for you to excuse yourself to their dressing room so Mito could do his whole song and dance.

Show them he’s a demon and did his best not to freak them out. He was out there buttering them up. Five fresh souls for the taking.

Whenever he made a fresh deal Mito liked to fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of a fresh soul, or a fresh kill when a particularly delicious sinner sat down at his table was too good to pass up (here is where the word games came into play). Whatever it was, he came back to you in such a euphoric high the tattoos that painted his skin writhed like a living thing.

You weren’t complaining, not really. Your only complaint - if you had one - would be on those days when he’d made multiple transactions in a day. You cared very much when your overstimulated body threatened to rip in half as his cock pushed back inside your bruised walls; fingernails digging into the soft flesh of your hips. His teeth leaving impressions in the mounds of your breasts.

There was no doubt in your mind that he was going to come back in one of those highs. He’d warned you to stay put and that taking one foot outside the room meant punishment.

Mito wanted you close and easy to find. You, however, were growing impatient.

You hated how easy it became for him to read you, especially during sex.

There were times you enjoyed playing hard to please and Mito? Well, he enjoyed playing into it just to tear you apart and turn you into a crumbling mess beneath him. It was his way of reminding you that he owned you - mind, body, and soul - and while you continued to play your little games, it was only because he allowed the facade of freedom to dance like little sugar plums around in your head.

But there were moments he stripped those sugar plums from your head.

The first night he’d marked you had been in the dressing room of someone famous. It’d make you nervous to be around them not because of who they were - you would have cared less about their money and a false sense of infamy. No, it made your skin crawl to watch these people negotiate deals with Mito as if they were making a setlist. They were too stupid to realize they needed to read the fine print; to know that fine print was open to change whenever Mito saw fit.

You tried to wait like he’d asked, just like now, but the place made your skin crawl. You’d grabbed your bag and had just made it to the door, your hand on the knob twisting and swinging it open when - like Houdini - Mito was just there.

An itching sensation began to grow between your shoulder blades. One where you couldn’t tell if it was a warning, you just being antsy to flee, or an actual damn itch. Whatever it was, maybe you should’ve listened to the first part, but just the memory of being left alone - again - inside another dressing room left your brain pleading with you to flee.

Mito be damned.

You slid off of the couch and your chunky boots made a resonating thud inside the empty room.

Yup. Time to go.

The second your hand wrapped around the doorknob and pulled the door towards you flashbacks of that night replayed through your head at warp speed.

He didn’t seem surprised at your attempted departure. Instead, with an arm draped against the doorframe, Mito seemed like he was actually waiting for you to open it. A flurry of thought erupted in your head on how you could explain what you were doing - what he was seeing. You could easily tell him you’d sensed his presence at the door and were just trying to make it easier for him to enter. You knew, however, when reflecting obsidian eyes glanced down at your bag clutched tightly in your hands the jig was up.

“And where, little lamb, do you think you were going?”

“Mito I wasn’t-“

“And don’t lie to me,” he continued. His words over saturating yours as if he wasn’t finished talking to begin with.

His body immediately encompassed what small space was left between you, him, and your attempted exit. His pitiless eyes were still staring down at you - waiting for a response - while he closed and secured the door behind him.

You already knew the minute you saw him at the door you weren’t going anywhere. Now that he’d locked you in, sent your pulse racing with excitement or fear you weren’t too sure which was which. Lately, the two seemed to blend together.

He was pushing you back farther into the room; your feet backpedaling into a moment of peace before you knew what would happen.

“I was tired of waiting for you to get back. I was going out for a smoke.”

“I told you to wait here,” he growled.

“And I wanted a smoke.”

You wanted to sound unmoved by the fluorescent gleam of rage billowing up in his eyes. At any minute his left could wash over to the bleak white that promised he was minutes from breaking. The facade of playing a mere mortal man bleeding away until all that stood before you was Death.

You were so hyper-focused on him that you weren’t aware he’d backed you against the built-in makeup counter until your lower back came into painful contact with its edge. Just as a sharp gasp huffed from your lips Mito’s hand struck out - fluid and snake-like - to wrap around your throat. Constricting just enough to remind you it was there.

“Little lamb, I told you what would happen if you didn’t listen.”

He did. He’d told you many times. Mito even embellished his warnings like a tiny little nightmare meant to keep children from adventuring out into the woods.

Don’t go out there children. That’s where the wolf resides and he’ll tear you to bits.

You always were a whore for things with sharp teeth.

“You did, but I can’t help it,” your words gasped around his tightening grip. “You know I love to see if you’re a demon of his word.”

You watched intently as his eyes scanned your face. The Smokey trundles of white that began to billow up inside his left eye as his nostrils flared. A part of you felt victorious. A matching smirk was seconds away from sliding the corner of your lips upward until it was cut short.

Mito released his hold from your neck, his body moving back just enough to allow space for him to turn you around to face the mirror. His hips closed the few inches he’d given while he kicked your feet apart.

“You love being punished so much, don’t you, little lamb. Always testing your limits and one of these days you’re going to push too far.” As he spoke, his words curled at the base of your spine brimming with a threat that sent your heart thundering in your chest. “You’re so gluttonous for my punishment, let's see how you handle this.”

The reflection in the mirror showcased your uncertainty. Your brow creases with the weight of unspoken questions as to what Mito could possibly mean. For a split second, ice-cold fear encapsulated your mind that maybe this was it. Maybe your deal was done and he was finished with you.

That thought was ripped from your mind as Mito pushed your skirt up to your hips and a sharp smack of his hand against your ass brought you back to the present. Looking in the mirror, you could see his right eye was brimming with fire while the other had been completely consumed with white.

He pressed up against you to keep you trapped between his body and the counter. Mito’s eyes watching as you watched him begin to remove his jacket and then the colorful shirt that had lived underneath it.

No matter how many times you’d seen him naked, Mito never ceased to catch the air in your lungs. Your body forgot to register to breathe as you drank in the caramel tone of his skin and the museum of art that now slithered against his flesh. His muscles bunched and flexed as he tossed his clothes aside, and already you could feel the fabric of your underwear become soaked.

He dragged a hand from the base of your spine and slowly moved it up until his hand laced in your hand. His fingers twinning in its strands and pulling back hard enough to tear a scream from you.

With his free hand, he spanked you hard on the same cheek. The sting dulled out the momentary pain you’d felt.

“Tell me. Let me hear you say what you want.”

“I want you.”

Another hard smack against your ass left your hands scrambling for something to hold you up; anything at all. The only thing you logically seemed to find was the mirror itself.

“You know that’s not what I meant, little lamb. I know you want me. You’re soaking my clothes.”

Licking your lips, you caught his gaze in the mirror and held it. Your chest heaving as you struggled to get out the words you knew would ruin you.

“I want you-I want you to fuck me, Mito. My lord. My master.”

You threw in the last for fun. You knew he loved it when you used pet names for him. One that reminded you both of who - what - he truly was.

“As my slave commands.”

You weren’t about to correct him, because you were. You knew without him you were nothing and when he dropped to his knees in front of your cunt with his tongue pushing between your folds, you knew Mito worshiped you too.

_____________

Comments and reblogs are always welcome. Thank you for reading! XoXo

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violetdrkside · 1 year

Text

it took me one shot to make it nonstop

Tattoo Artist Getou Suguru X Reader

Summary:

You are holding your breath, heart pounding, body heating up. You have been hiding a secret from him and now he has you on your knees waiting for the consequences of doing such a thing. Even though his punishments may be harsh you would do anything for him. “So, can you be a good girl and follow my rules and instructions?” he asked. “Yes sir, I can,” you stated as firmly as you could with the feeling of slight sweat dripping down your back. “Only sir?” Fem Reader. She/her pronouns. Physical description vague. 18+ Explicit Content.

Rated E for Explicit.

Word Count: 13.8K

Tags: Alternative Universe (AU), Adult, Content, Dom/sub, Dom/sub play, BDSM, Light Bondage, Consensual Sex, Consensual Play, Use of Safe Words, Master/Pet, Dominant Getou, Submissive Reader, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Piss Kink, Golden Shower, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Choking, Oral Sex, Face Fucking, Rough Oral Sex, Biting, Marking, Cum Eating, Teasing, Orgasm Denial, Face Slapping, Face Sitting, Temperature Play, Degradation, Smut, Shameless Smut

A/N: I would do anything for this man. I swear. There is also something about AU Tattoo Artist Getou that just has been tickling my brain the last couple of years and I can't get it out of my head.

Also there is a golden shower part, but it is very short, you can skip it if you like. I marked the section off using ~~~~~~~~

Enjoy! Please give this one-shot some love by liking and reblogging.

You had been waiting for what seemed like an eternity. It had only been a few minutes, you realized as you watched the clock tick on the wall, your knees and shins seeping further into the cushion you were instructed to wait and kneel on. Every second felt longer, like sand falling through an hourglass.

Earlier, you had been told to send him a text back when you arrived home and to provide a picture of yourself in your current position. Once the picture was sent, you locked your phone and set it next to you. There was too much anxiety to even be mindlessly scrolling as you waited—and you knew he would be displeased to walk in and see you like that—but you kept the device nearby. If you somehow missed a message or call from him, you would be in much bigger trouble than you were already in.

You knew what you had done, and you honestly were not sure how you’d managed to keep it a secret from him for this long. With him being away on business and you taking your own vacation time, a month has passed since. It was not until this morning when you were both getting ready for work that he saw. You knew he did not want to get into a full conversation about it now, you both had your days ahead of you, so instead he complimented how good it looked pressing a hard kiss to your mouth and gripping your arm snugly above your elbow. He pulled away with a dark glint in his eyes, a slight smile tugging at the edges of his lips, “I will see you after work. Have a good day and be good, doll.” Pressing one last kiss to the top of your head, he stepped out the door. Fuck. You knew you would be in for it later today, but knowing him, it would be worth it. Your phone buzzed shortly after.

“Make sure to text me when you get to work <3”

You knew at that point today you would have to try and be extra good—you could picture him counting each and every rule you had broken and how he would punish you for each one, ensuring you would take it.

Before you knew it, the unlocking of the door tore you away from your thoughts about the events of earlier this morning, and your eyes immediately jumped to the door, hearing the key turn slowly with a click. In the doorway stood the man you had been waiting to see the whole day. He stepped through the entrance slowly, closing the door behind him. He placed his keys back in his bag as he hung it up on the rack. You remained quiet as you watched him bend over to unlace his black combat boots as he placed them next to yours. He went through the motions undisturbed, as if your heart wasn’t beating in excitement and apprehension. He finally glanced towards you as you remained still a little way from the entrance.

“So, can you be a good girl and follow my rules and instructions?” he asked.

“Yes sir, I can,” you stated as firmly as you could with the feeling of slight sweat dripping down your back.

“Only sir?”

‘Sir’ was a baseline for you two, and you simply assumed you were starting there because he usually had strict preferences for specific situations. You guessed today was the day you would have to call him more than just sir.

“Apologies, Master Getou. Yes, I can listen to your rules and instructions.” You respond back appropriately, gaze lowering to where his feet faced towards you.

“Well, you can follow most of them… eyes on me.” He commands.

Your eyes immediately snap to his deep purple ones as they grew darker, almost black. You swallow the saliva building up in your mouth. You knew he was going to be hard on you this evening, you just do not know how he would go about it. A silence forms between the two of you as you struggle to not break eye contact. He kneels down to get closer, making sure you still have to look up at him. He reaches his left arm out to you, brushing his thumb over your cheek, continuing the motion as he pushes some of your hair behind your ear. Fingers now brushed under your jawline to your chin where he cradles it, thumb tracing your lips gently. His stare pierces through you, trying to make you lose your composure. Although he knows he has to do a lot more to achieve that, it does not hurt to try. He finally breaks the silence, his voice low and speech articulate to make sure you understand every single word he says.

“Now, imagine this: I haven’t seen my precious darling in a month. I haven’t been able to hold you, kiss you, praise you, truly worship you. I haven’t even been able to have you over my knee, to bend you to my will, or to hear your cries and pleas of pleasure for a month. You followed most of the rules and instructions while we’ve been away from each other, but at some point, you went out on your own and disobeyed me, doll, and that hurts. You know I don’t mind what you do if there is a form of communication. So, tell me, why did you do it, hm?” he asks. You can see the hurt in his face as his eyebrows knit closer together, his lips curving down. You knew when you went to do that and not tell him, there would be a high chance he would react this way, but you had been willing to risk it anyway. He stopped caressing your lip but still held your jaw firmly, waiting for you to answer his question.

“Master Getou, I know I went against your rules—and I am deeply sorry for that—but I wanted to surprise you, sir. I wanted to show my devotion to you, I wanted to show that I am and will always be yours. I thought that, while we were apart, it would be a good time for you to see the commitment I have towards you, that we have for each other. I know this may break your trust, but I will do anything to regain it.”

“My precious doll, you are very good to me, but I will not ignore what you have done. We will talk this through, and you will accept whatever punishment I see fit, understand?” You nod your head. “Now get up and sit on the couch, I will be there in a moment.”

The dark-haired man gets up first, grabbing your phone from the ground. You both know at this point you will not be needing it, and he does not want any interruptions to occur. You wait for him to turn away as he heads towards the kitchen. When you hear him rummaging in the other room, you get up, making your way to the couch in the living room. Your body begins to tingle with excitement for what your Master could have in store for you. The one thing you have learned about him over the years is though he may get upset, he does not like to stay that way for long.

He comes to where you are sitting, two glasses of water and a plate of fruit in hand. He puts everything on the coffee table in front of the couch and sits beside you. You turn your head to look at him; you see him tapping his thigh and you instantly know what this means as you shift your body, placing your legs over his lap. He leans over your legs to the table, handing you a glass of water and putting the plate of fruit in your lap.

“Now drink up and eat. Once you are done, we will continue.” he directs you as he begins to take the socks off your feet. He began pressing his fingers into the top and bottom of your foot, making sure to hit all the right pressure points. Once he learned how much you were on your feet from your job, he always made sure, especially after long workdays, to be extra attentive towards them no matter what the two of you did in the evenings. It was a way he showed his affection to you outside the bedroom. He began to ask you how your trip was, amongst other things. For a moment, you were just two lovers keeping each other company. Occasionally, he would open his mouth, indicating he wanted you to feed him fruit as he continued to give you a massage. You had finished your water and most of the fruit on the plate; he turns to look at you, letting out a sigh.

“Now for the hard part, yeah?”

“Yes, Master Getou.”

“We’ll start with the small offenses. You did not make eye contact with me earlier when I was first talking to you, but I can let that slide. You lied at one point about where you were going or what you were doing while I was away. Then, you proceeded to not tell me about said thing you did for… what was it? Thirty days? It’s kind of impressive you kept something hidden from me for that long, but don’t be proud of that, okay? Now, onto the bigger things: not telling me you were getting a tattoo when your lover, your Master is a tattoo artist, a relatively famous one at that. I hope you did your research before you let just about anyone tattoo you. Which leads me to the next issue: having someone that I don’t know touch you for hours, permanently putting ink into your skin. The fact that it should be me marking up your body in more ways than one, and yet you took that away from me. Don’t get me wrong, doll, I’m not mad about you getting a tattoo, it is your body—but you took away from me the opportunity of doing it myself, as someone else’s hands were placed upon you. Let’s say it was because you wanted it to be a surprise; I still didn’t even get to help you pick the person to do it for you. I have colleagues and friends that I trust to do it… Anyway… did I miss anything?”

You could see the pain in his face; you did not fully realize how upset he would be. You did not think he would even want to ink your skin, knowing that it could cause you pain—and not in ways either one of you would prefer—but now you knew, and you would learn a lesson from this.

“No, Master Getou, you covered everything. Though, pardon me, you do know the person who tattooed me. I didn’t go to a stranger,” your voice was low, but you kept eye contact with your lover.

“You’re telling me someone I know tattooed you and kept it a secret from me? Who was it?”

“You mean you couldn’t tell by the work? But you saw it this morning?”

“Doll, I was more focused trying not to get angry than to look at the art, now who was it?”

“Please Master, please don’t get mad at them. I told them not to tell you, I begged–”

“You begged?” he questioned, cutting you off. Fuck. “You begged someone else? You know I am the only one you should be begging. I guess we can add that to the list too. My, my… you sure are racking them up, doll.” His voice had a slight enthusiasm to it as a dark chuckle built up from the back of his throat. You felt all the air from your lungs disappear as you heard him laugh, eyes wide. All your brain could process was this gorgeous man and how he was going to cause you so much pain and yet so much pleasure tonight.

Before you knew it, he had you in his lap, your legs straddling his, gazes meeting one another. His hands rested at your waist, gripping it slightly. His right hand trailed up your spine to the nape of your neck where his fingers threaded into the roots of your hair, pulling your head back. You try to keep your eyes open as they stare into his now obsidian ones filled with lust and anger, you wanted to admire their beauty, but his touch was starting to be distracting. He leaned closer, placing a kiss where the edge of your jaw met your earlobe. You then felt his teeth scrape where he just kissed you and then place another kiss in the same spot. The hand on your waist wraps around you, further pulling you closer to him.

“You know, doll, I am a greedy man. The thought of having someone’s hands on you as they hold a needle that penetrates your skin is making me go wild. Do you even know how much I want to be the person who does that? To be able to put my art onto your body? To have you in that way too?” He grunts into your skin. “Now, are you going to tell me who did that tattoo, or will I have to study it myself to figure it out?” He pulls away from you, fingers still threaded in your hair. You look him in the eyes, taking a deep breath as you gather your thoughts before you speak.

“Master Getou, I thought this through. I had to think of who would be the person who'd make you the least mad if I went to them to get this done behind your back. I know you trust this person more than anyone, considering they taught you everything you know, and did your first tattoo. I thought it was only appropriate to go to them.” You kept your composure together as you let out your last words, exhaling deeply, your hands still at your side. You want to reach out to him and kiss him, let him know that you hated hiding things from him, but he had not invited you to do so yet. You remain still. You could see the gears turning as he was processing everything you’d just told him. You cleared your throat to start speaking again. Getou’s eyebrow arched up, insinuating that what you were about to continue saying better be appropriate.

“Yuki also told me to tell you—and remember these are her words, so please be kind to the messenger—but she said, ‘I don’t regret doing this, and in fact, I would do it again. So let dear Suguru know to get off his high horse and if he wants to pick a fight, he can come to me and deal with someone his own size.’”

The man loosens his grip on you and begins to laugh. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him, confused at his reaction.

“She really does know how to push buttons, doesn’t she… always has and always will, but I can’t deny that I respect her the most. I would say she is the only one that gives me a run for my money when it comes to a fight too. I’m surprised she even had time to take you in, considering she’s even busier now than when I apprenticed with her.”

“Once she realized who I was, she made sure to clear a spot for me as soon as she could. She specifically said, ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to tattoo that punk’s significant other.’ Then proceeded to agree with me that she would probably be the person you would be least angry about tattooing me and considered it an honor I seeked her out. She really does have a soft spot for you, doesn’t she, sir?”

“That she does, only because I gave her a taste of her own medicine, and she did the same to me. I really did learn everything and some from her… Now now, let’s not get distracted. We haven’t even begun yet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m relieved you went to her and not some random person, but you still sadly broke my rules. You may get up and stand in front of me.”

“Yes Master,” you said with a slight smile on your lips. You lifted yourself off him and stood directly facing him.

“Shirt off.” You raised the fabric above your head and dropped it to the ground by your feet.

“Pants too.” You moved a bit slower unbuttoning your pants, dragging them down your legs and placing them where your shirt was.

“You know, doll, I like it when you are obedient. Now turn to the side so I can see dear Yuki’s work on you.”

You turn so Getou can examine your right side along your rib cage. You feel the tips of his fingers tracing around the tattoo, careful not to touch. You can see him out of your peripheral, face stern, almost unreadable as his eyes move slowly, careful to retain every line that was inked onto you. He was studying, taking everything in. You were doing everything in your power to remain still, but you want to know what he thinks of it; does he like it, hate it? You wish you could ask, the silence is almost suffocating as you try and focus on something, anything else. Your eyes are still focused on him, he knows it, and he finally glances up at you. His lips part slightly, then close again. You know he is trying to find the words he wants to say to you, but is not quite there yet. Instead, he asks you,

“When did Yuki tattoo you? How many days ago?”

“35 days ago, Master.”

“Hm. Have you gone back to see her?”

“She told me to come back after two weeks and then I saw her again a few days ago, right when I got back from being out of town. She normally doesn’t do checkups like that, but she knew if it didn’t heal properly or seem up to your standards, she wouldn’t hear the end of it from you.”

“She’s not wrong, and what did she say? Is it fully healed?”

“Yes, it is. I made sure to follow her instructions thoroughly. She said you should send over her favorite bottle of liquor for how nice it turned out and how she made sure it was the exact match to yours.”

“Oh, don’t worry, she will be hearing from me later. Now…” He started as he grabbed your hips to turn you back to face him. “You make this so difficult for me, doll. I had plans to spoil and ravage you until the sun rises… and I thought you were so good…” He is smirking, you know he enjoys punishing you and you are not opposed to it, or you wouldn’t have been with him for this long. You do know that Getou can be mean when he wants to, and you have a feeling that though he may be pleased with the tattoo, he will not let you off this easily.

“…but you really didn’t live up to my expectations…” his left hand was gripping your hip as his right hand was trailing from your knee up to your thigh. Your face was starting to heat up, you were always amazed how his small touches could make your body react like it does even to this day. The hand moving up your leg moved between your thighs, reaching back to cup your ass. His arm grazes your clothed sex as he pulls you closer.

“So, I think thirty spankings, fifteen on each side, along with five markings on your body of my choosing, because,” He paused, smiling, “I will mark you one way or another. What do you think? You may speak.”

“I accept what you think is best for my punishments, Master.” you say, making direct eye contact with him. He grips you tighter and kisses your stomach again, lips turning up, “That’s my good girl. Now turn around.” He releases his hold on you as you face the other direction. At first, you hear rustling and movement behind you, then you feel him moving your hands behind your back. Something slips around each of them moving up to wrists, that’s when you realize from the smooth texture it’s his belt. The leather tightens around your wrists enough to make you feel your blood pump through your veins.

With a softer tone, he asks if they are too tight, to which you reply no. He turns you back around as he guides you to kneel on the couch next to him, helping maneuver your body so you are now laying face down across his lap. your head faces the side away from the couch, away from his body, from him. You knew this was just the beginning of Getou bending you to his will. You know you have to clear your head of all other thoughts so you can focus solely on your Master’s words and touches because failing to do so will have consequences. If there is anything the man whose lap you lay across hates more than rule breaking is unfocused, divided attention. If he puts in the effort to pay attention to you, your body, your needs, and your wants—then he wants the same from you. His fingers trail from the back of your neck down your body as he begins to speak again, this time his voice is sterner, and more articulate than before.

“Remember, thirty spankings. I will expect you to count each one of them with me. Fail to do so and we will start over. We will restart over, and over and over until you get it right. Understood?”

“I understand Master Getou..”

“Your safe words are?”

“Green, yellow, and red.”

“Good girl, not so stupid now, huh?” He smiled, brushing your hair condescendingly, “Let’s begin.”

Even though you prepared yourself for the first spanking, knowing it would probably hurt, the roughness of his hit still took you by surprise, a small gasp leaving your mouth as you uttered “One.” trying to ensure it was loud enough for him to hear over his own voice. You inhale slowly, another slap to your left cheek, “Two.” You can already feel the sting starting to form, but it lessens as you feel Getou rubbing your ass. His hand moves away again, inhale, you thought this time, feeling the sting on your right cheek, “Three.” you say as you exhale.

You made it to fifteen, his slaps weren’t as hard as you thought they would be, but they were precise. He had his other hand laced through your hair, occasionally rubbing your scalp, which helped you focus on your breathing.

“You’re doing so well my doll. So well, I think it’s time to take these off.” You feel his fingers slip into the waist of your underwear gripping them delicately as he pulls them down your body slowly. Your ass can feel the coolness of the room now, the feeling of being exposed has a chill run up your spine causing your body to shudder and your hands to move in your restraints. Noticing it, Getou reassures you.

“Shh, don’t squirm now, you have been cooperating so well so far. You don’t want to start over now, do you?” A loud smack echoed in the room; your body felt it before your mind registered the hit Getou landed on your ass. You knew his spanking was on the lighter side before, but the difference was drastic. Your mind finally caught up and you trembled out the words, “No, Master… sixteen.”

“I’m glad you’re still with me, but sadly that one will not be a part of the count…” he starts, you feel his fingers up your legs again trailing slowly just like his words, “…it’s good your mind can keep up…” his fingers are between your thighs now, you are doing everything to keep still, you can feel every single touch he has left on your body. “…because your punishment is taking up what I really want…” his fingers now grazing your sex, the vulnerability spiking further, you try to remember to breathe, to keep still. But it does not help as you feel two of his fingers pushing past your lips, gently rubbing, a deep breath leaves your lips, but before you know it the pressure of his fingers is gone, replaced by a dark small laugh that ignites your body. “Fuck you’re so needy already. Doll, this is a punishment. Yet, here you are being a greedy little slut.” He cooed, enjoying it so much, the sight of you, desperate for his hands and touches. “But it’s not fair for you to enjoy your punishment, not when your little act infuriated me—you went behind my back and disobeyed. Can you get that in your little head?”

“I understand, Master Getou. I am sorry.” you were partly sorry, enough to let him hear you apologize but not enough to not enjoy his punishment. Another loud smack echoes through the room. “Sixteen,” you choke out.

“Good. Then you will take whatever I see fit until I am satisfied.” You feel his hand meet your other cheek, your body reverberates from the impact, fully understanding his frustrations with you.

“Seventeen.” You gritted through your teeth,“Yes Master Getou.”

“You let someone defile you with their art, you should let me defile you how the fuck I want. Makes sense, right?” You can feel fury radiating off his body into yours as he lands another hit to your ass. The sting is more prominent since he is letting you feel the full pain each spanking.

“Eighteen. Yes, Master Getou, it makes sense.” You were not fully sure where he was going with his punishments, but you knew you would have to go with it as much as you could.

“Now, let’s finish this up, so we can move on, we have a whole evening ahead of us.”

You made it through the thirty spankings, but just barely. By the last five or so you knew he was putting his full strength into each hit to throw you off. There were points where the smacks landing on the full of your cheek vibrated through your body, making it hard to even say anything as you were more focused trying to blink away the tears building up in your eyes and keeping steady breaths. Getou lightly gripped your now red ass and massaged it for a moment as he loosened his belt that kept your arms bound behind your back. He then told you to stand back up, and you did slowly, trying to feel your legs again as the soreness from your behind began to spread and ache. You moved slowly as Getou watched your every move, observing how your body took his punishment so far, and yet still at ready to catch you should you lose your balance. You were proud to have made it through, so you straighten your back and stand in front of him, waiting for his next commands. Unwavering. Without getting up, he ordered you to hand him his glass from the coffee table.

After handing it to him, he quickly drinks the liquid. You admired how beautiful your Master was as the rays from the sun set shined through the window behind him. Part of the black locks he kept down absorbed the sunlight, he looked ethereal and at this point you knew you would do just about anything for him. He rose from the couch handing you the empty glass back for you to put on the coffee table. As you did, he stood next to you. He peered down and grabbed your chin between his thumb and index finger so you both were closer, he asked, “You still want more, look at you leaning into my touch. You really are insatiable.”

“I cannot help it, Master Getou.”

A short kind smile drew itself on his lips, “Good. Then, follow me.” He says, letting go of your chin as he turns around and walks past the kitchen towards the bedroom. You followed him to the bathroom connected to the bedroom and stood where he told you too, while he turned the water on in the shower. He began to take off his shirt and at this point the only thing you could do was stare at him and think about how much you wanted to touch him, hold him, kiss him, run your fingers all over his body and make him yours.You could not help yourself and asked if you could help him undress, to which he replied, a fake nice look on his face, “No. Only obedient subs get to touch their Master.” He paused, “Which you have been nothing but..” He smirks knowing how much you want to help him, to gain any affection from him, but you were aware you had to be patient and work hard for him to calm down.

He begins to take off his pants and you continue to admire his toned body, adorned from head to toes with tattoos. You catch a glimpse of your matching one and admire it, loving to see how it matches yours exactly. You were so happy with how well Yuki really did to make yours the twin of his. He stands up straight up and looks up at you again. He steps closer, looking down at you, his face showing no emotion, then with one side of his mouth curving up he says, “Let’s not touch works of art, hm?” he pulls the rest of his hair down taunting you, knowing how much you want to thread your fingers through it. Your fingers are twitching ever so slightly by your sides, as the smell of him becomes more prominent with his hair framing his face, moving forward as he looks down at you.

“This.” he hooks his right index finger through your bra strap, pulling it, letting it snap against your skin, “It comes off. Then you step into the shower.” You unclasp your bra and drop it on the ground. You open the glass door to the shower and step in. You face the wall and the shower head, letting the water run down your body. The water felt so soothing on your sensitive skin, you let it run through your hair, cupping some of it and splashing it on your face, trying to get yourself to focus, trying not to think too much about how much you might have hurt Getou. You could see deep in his eyes how he wishes to have been the one to tattoo it on your pretty skin. Especially such a large meaningful piece like the one Yuki did for you, but to have it match almost exactly like yours meant a lot to you.

Of course, you know one day you will let him put his art on your body. You longed to be connected to him in that way as much as he did and it would mean so much to both of you, but it will come soon, for now you know that each of you will have to deal with the current circumstances.

All of sudden you feel an arm wrap around your waist and another on your upper body as a hand lightly grasps your neck. Then, a piercing sting was felt on your left shoulder. You realized it was Getou biting you and your eyes opened wide with a gasp leaving your mouth as water still poured down on you. You could feel his canines dig deeper into your flesh, almost breaking the skin. The nerves he hit spread down your arm and in your neck almost going numb. Before you know it you were moved facing the other wall away from the shower head, Getou still holding onto you. Your body is still warm, from where he is pressing against you, but freezing and making you shiver upon touching the cold tiles of the wall.

“I thought I would remind my doll that I. Am. Still. Here,” he whispers into your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine. You were so lost in your thoughts that you missed Getou entering the shower, not giving him eye contact, or even acknowledging him. Shit. “I am going to have fun defiling you. Marking you as I please…” He grazes his teeth against your skin before biting another time, this time more gently, “Claiming you back.”

“Yes, Master Getou.” your chest is heaving, recovering from the pain you felt in your left shoulder. He pulls you closer, nipping at your ear, his hips hitting your butt, causing soreness from his earlier ministrations.

“You did agree earlier that you would take whatever I would give you, doll. I’d be disappointed had you disagreed.” he snickers, front teeth digging into your neck. You let out a sigh, the pleasure so strong that it brought you right at the edge of the cliff. You were so close, but as you were about to reach your climax, it was ripped away from you as he bit down on the right side of the crevice where your neck and shoulder met. He ensures with the bite that he digs his canines deep into your skin. You are trying not to yell—you want to, you do—but your pride will not let you. You bite your own teeth into your lip to muffle the sound of any scream trying to be released.

“That shouldn’t hurt too bad. Didn’t you get a tattoo, one that took hours, on your ribs nonetheless. This should be nothing compared to that.”

He was not wrong per se, but the pain is different. The bites he leaves are sharp, fast, piercing. The tattoo took so long, with prick after prick, but at times you could dull that pain for a short bit. There is no way you can ignore this one. You know your Master wants you to react to every single punishment he gives you. He wants you to be aware of everything he does to you and your body. You feel his hand trail down your body and you wish it could stay like this, him holding you close, feeling every part of him as he feels you, but you know right now you cannot. He grabs your hips and shifts you so your back is now on the tiles of the wall. The shower head next to you, you can feel the droplets of water hitting the floor on your legs.

He still has a grip on your hips, his mouth now on your neck again with teeth slowly making their way down to your collar bones, going further to your breasts. He makes sure his body is not as close as it was before. The feeling of teeth along your now cool skin makes you shiver and roll your hips forward more into his hands. He pushes you against the wall more and you hear him scold you quietly. His right hand moves up your body, cupping your left breast. His warm mouth travels to meet where his hand is. You close your eyes and move your head upwards, anticipating another bite. He makes sure to avoid your nipples, aware of how sensitive they were. You were not prepared for the feeling of his teeth digging into your skin. You were careful not to bang your head into the wall behind you, but the pain took you by surprise, almost making you weak as you tried desperately to dig your fingers into something, anything to grab on to. You groaned, “Fuck…” Getou looks up at you, seeing tears fall from your closed eyes. This time, he licks and sucks at the bite, trying to soothe the pain, bracing your body with his other hand the best he could.

Getou kneels further down, balancing on one knee, his face level with your hips. He tells you to look down at him and you do. His hair is damp, his muscles tense as he positions himself below you. The subtle eye makeup he wears is starting to smudge, but makes him seem all the more intimidating. The way he looks alone is enough to drive you wild; if you were not in so much trouble already, you would grab onto him and push his face further in between your legs. He grips your right thigh, moving it further apart from your other one. He digs his fingers into your flesh more and grips your other hip again, making sure you are steady. He tells you to hold onto his shoulders and you do not argue with him as you touch him for balance eagerly. His tongue presses to the inner part of your leg and licks up. It tickles, but at this point any touches Getou gives you, you take. You realize how desperate you are starting to become. You just want to have this man already, but you know he is dragging out these punishments on purpose.

He starts pressing small kisses to your inner thigh, the tenderness feels so good, you had been waiting for such touches ever since you saw him again. With his warm lips on your skin, he could only hope to cover your whole body with his kisses. He sucks lightly on your plump skin giving it more licks, your stomach starting to tighten. You just want him to continue like this forever. Giving him a proper good look, you smile, thinking that he looked so good doing this, being yours. Seeing him like this, you only wish you knew what he was thinking. Was he as obsessed with you as you were with him? Was he as high on you as you were on his touch?

You tighten your legs on his shoulders as you feel his teeth bite the most prominent part of your thigh, shooting up your body like electricity. His lips forming a shit-eating grin, showing how content he was with his work so far. This time he ignores any response you have to his biting and moves to your left thigh.

Immediately he bites it, giving you no time to recover from the last one. This one he made sure was the biggest and deepest one of them all. He was still careful to not draw blood, but he made it deep enough for the bruise to start forming immediately. Your chest is moving rapidly from the pain Getou’s mouth and teeth has caused on your body. You are trying hard to not slip down onto the floor of the shower. You want to say you are almost at your limit, but you want to keep pushing forward, you really do. You need to show him you can be good, you need him to forgive you. You need him.

Getou would not shame you if you wanted to stop, but the fire that was forming in your body was craving more. You two had been away from each other for so long that you wanted to have him every single way you could. In and out, you tell yourself as you slow your breathing, guiding yourself to calm down your breathing. With just one look into Getou’s beautiful eyes, you let him know you are able to continue. “Atta girl.” he says, making your heart skip a beat.

He stands back up, glancing at your body and admiring his work. Quickly, your Master had your wrists pinned in one of his hands above your head and you felt two of his fingers dip to the opening of your sex.

“Insatiable little girl. But if you would take all that I give you…” You do, and you prove it by wrapping your lips around his fingers. He lets go of your wrists and grabs your waist to move you further away from the shower head. Now, you are in front of the ledge that is in the shower, back onto it. He pushes firmly on your shoulders, urging you to kneel down. Your eyes immediately shoot up to him when he says your name for the first time this evening, and even if he was being stern, you always loved the way your name rolled off his tongue. Your wide eyes meet his to make sure you are giving all your attention to him and once he knows you are, he begins to talk again.

“Now, I gave my pretty little doll water earlier, and I thought that might have been enough to hydrate you, but it seems you are still being a needy little slut. Good thing your Master loves to give. To provide, even. So keep your head up and eyes on me.”

“Yes, Master Getou.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Such a good little doll, yet so thirsty and Master is feeling a bit…” Sighs of pleasure. Then a satisfied smile on his lips.

It took you a moment to understand what was actually happening. But as you felt more warm liquid drip down from your neck onto your chest down the rest of your body, you realize it was not water.You could see the shower head behind Geto’s body, he was like a shield. The smell is what got you and made you realize he was peeing on you. You both have done many things before, but this was definitely a first. You had seen it on his list of kinks, it was on your ‘maybe’ and on his ‘yes’. You kept your head up the best you could trying to avoid any of his piss getting on your face. Unfortunately, some got on your mouth from it bouncing off your chest and you try not to flinch, knowing it could make the situation worse for you. Getou’s face is painted with a smirk, his eyes narrowed on you. His smug look alone makes your stomach flutter, you groan slightly, silently. How can he look so good while humiliating you in the worst way?

Finally, the warm stream comes to an end and all you can do is sit there, looking up at your Master. You feel disgusting, in shock, this was unexpected so why were you aroused? Why did this usually vile action of his make you close to begging for it again? Your body is covered in bruises, long-since-gone saliva and piss—you are now also starting to become sore as your body settles in a more comfortable position but cannot get past what happened. Pleasure rises in your body seeing how satisfied your Master looks and fuck, seeing him so pleased only turns you on even with his piss running down your body. If anything you are so happy to have made him feel like this you were ready to tell him to do it again. You would do anything for your Master.

“Oh fuck, you’re being so fucking good to me, my pretty doll. My filth all over you, it’s shameful, it’s degrading, it’s all mine. You are mine. You’re on your knees, covered in your Master’s piss, my fucking piss. Mmm, but it’s not enough.” He shakes his head, “Not for my insatiable girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He grabs the shower head from behind him and points it down on you. Your body jolts from the cold water hitting your skin, goosebumps beginning to form all over. You close your eyes as you feel him spray you down from head to toe, washing away the traces of himself on you. The constant change in temperature is starting to make your head spin as you try to focus on being in Getou’s arms.

You wonder if he will give you any relief. You wonder how much you must beg, ask for his forgiveness. You have hope he will be a little kinder to you, maybe he already forgave you after his punishments. The stream of cold water ends, your skin still feeling the icy prickles coursing through your nerves.

A hand wraps around your bicep, pulling you up to your feet. If it wasn’t for the help, you’re not sure if you’d be able to stand up due to the soreness settling in your body. He pulls your arms around his neck as he wraps his left arm around you, holding you in place. You feel him lean down to give you an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue slipping in to twirl around yours. His right hand wanders down your body, grasping at every curve. He moves both of you back until you feel your legs hit the ledge. He grips your hip, then moves his fingers between your thighs. He rubs one of the spots he bit you in, making you moan into his mouth from the dull pain it brings you. He presses your body closer to him as his kisses deepen more, lips pressing harder against each other.

His index and ring fingers begin to graze your outer lips and make your back arch. You can feel the wetness build up as he moves his fingers closer to your entrance, making sure to avoid your clit. You open your eyes and gaze at him through wet eyelashes as he looks down, smirking at you.

“Fuck, doll, no matter what I do, you are still wet for me. Begging for more with those doe eyes of yours. You really are my very own whore.” he says as he slips his middle finger inside, making you bite your lip. He continues to speak as he moves his finger in and out of you.

“I pissed on you, humiliated you, marked you mine and yet it still seems like that’s not enough!” He grinned, “You savored me marking you like a dog, I can feel how wet you are on my fingers. You really are enjoying my punishments, aren’t you?” he says mocking you, slipping his ring finger into you. You let out a whimper you were trying to hold in, his words making your body heat up again. His fingers stop.

“Answer me.” His face is serious, eyes glaring at you.

“No.”

“No? Careful, you’re missing something there.”

You did not call him Master, but replied, “No, I did not enjoy you marking me like a dog.”

“Are you sure?” He gritted through his teeth, “Because you have been wet since I started your ‘punishments’” He emphasized the word, both of you knowing it was nothing but. “You’ve always been rather the masochist, huh?”

“I just…” As you begin to speak, he starts moving his fingers inside of you again, now hitting the spot he knows that drives you wild.

“You just what, hm? Use your words, whore.” Between his words and fingers, you could only gasp attempts at words. Your Master truly knows how to really make you come undone.

“What Master likes, I will like. What makes you happy makes me happy—please continue, I need you. I’m sorry for what I did, I just–”” Your grip tightens more around his neck, you bury your face into his chest. Even though he loves it when you are begging, it does not make it any less embarrassing. He pulls his fingers out of you, interrupting the pleasure that was starting to build in your stomach. The arm that was wrapped around your body trails up, his hand at the nape of your neck, large fingers lacing at your roots, pulling your head away from his body.

“Then why did you let someone else defile you? You know I’m the only one allowed to touch you.”

“Because I wanted to surprise you. Yuki is your friend, she is talented, I knew she wouldn’t mess up—I knew she would make it match yours perfectly!”

“Are you saying that I couldn’t match it perfectly, that I don’t have the skill to make yours look exactly like mine?”

“No Master, don’t twist my words, I know you could have! You are beyond talented, it’s just—it’s just that Yuki tattooed your original piece, I thought she could tattoo mine” You paused, “I wanted that bond… I wanted us to have it.”

“You thought you should let her tattoo your first large piece instead of me?” Venom is lacing through his words. Before you could blink, he had you facing the other way, back towards him, your right leg now propped up on the ledge. He then enters you in one long push, knocking the breath out of you, making you put your hands out in front of yourself and on the wall to prevent yourself from hitting it. “Let’s refresh your memory and remind you who you belong to.” He said that as he wrapped his left hand around your neck, propping his right leg behind yours for more leverage, digging deeper inside you.

This made you gasp out of breath, having him already so far inside of you. It had been so long since you last felt him that you immediately clenched around his cock, instinctively. This landed you a smack on your inner thigh.

“Oh no no, you don’t get to enjoy this. I know my little pet is needy but this is for me. This is just for me. You’re my free-use hole tonight, okay?”” He says as he continuously moves his hips to match the emphasis on his words.

You try to focus on anything but the feeling of his cock moving deep in and out of you. Anything. Maybe the patterns in the tiles, the way your breath is hitching every time he snaps his hips against you, even the small grunts that get closer to your ear as he leans forward.

None of it however can distract you from how good his cock feels, grazing every part of you. Your stomach starts tightening more and more, aching for release as you try not to clench again, feeling yourself become wetter.

“Look at how my cock fills you up.” He emphasized each word once more, “It’s making sure your pussy knows who it belongs to.” He suddenly stops his fast rhythm to ensure you feel every single inch of him and you do. The hand around your neck moves down to your stomach, pressing down on it, intensifying the feeling of him moving inside of you. You are nearing your climax, wanting to release desperately. And desperate you were. You start to beg, eyes pleading, mouth barely forming any words.

“Please Master Getou, please, just let me cum. I belong to you, only you, please, please Master, please.” As you beg more, he picks up the pace again pressing harder against, ensuring there is no way you cannot feel him in every way. You are close, you know are gushing more around as you clench around him again. A wave is about to crash around you, then it immediately dissipates as you feel yourself now empty with a smack to your clit making you jolt, and cry out with the echo of Getou whispering, “No” into your ear. The feeling of his breath did not help, the pain on your used clit did. Your orgasm was gone.

You’re nearly crying from the sensitivity ringing through your body. You feel his warmth leave you as he moves away to turn off the shower, telling you to get out. Stepping out of the shower, your Master follows behind you, steering you to the bedroom. The cooler air hits your body, goosebumps starting to form on your skin. You try to keep yourself warm by wrapping your arms around yourself, but it does very little to help. Your eyes are met with his chest as he stands in front of you, your mind wondering what he could possibly do next.

His fingers are now on your cheeks as he pushes them together, making you pout as he directs your face to his again. Fear is curling up your spine as you can see his eyes so dark, finding difficulty in distinguishing where his pupils start and where they end.

“Tell me my doll did not try to go against my command. Tell me my fucking doll did not try to fucking cum.” The small curve forming on his lips with his eyebrows arching up sends a fire through your body that’s doing everything to stay still, gazing up at Getou.

“No, Master.” you plead. He tuts at your response. “Little brat is a liar too?”

“Please sir, I wasn’t going to cum without your permission, I promise!” You know it was a half lie, you almost did cum without him giving you permission, but being away from him for so long has made your body desperate for him.

“Now why are we lying? I know how your body reacts, how it feels, how to control it.” He pauses and gives you a tight smile, “To think you did not learn anything from my punishments….” His smile is wide, almost uncomfortably so, and the way it seems to sharpen at the edges runs chills through your body. It’s like a storm brewing, tense and unforgiving. The sting you feel across your face is like lightning striking down a tree branch, but unlike the branch, someone is there to catch your quivering body. His large hand settles deep in the back of your hair, with his other arm at the base of your ass, pulling you up. The change in position, being on your toes, keeps you alert, staring right at the eye of the storm.

Your Master is silent, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with a smile. The tears that roll down your face cause your cheek to prickle more, your body throbbing from the stillness you can only hope to be released from. The wetness on your face increases, and you think there are more tears falling, but instead it is Getou’s tongue licking up your cheek, collecting every droplet from your eyes.

“Do you think those tears are going to stop me? If anything, it’s fueling me to teach you more fucking lessons. At least you’ll remember them. Or… we could try one last thing, are you listening?” He pauses, looking at you. You could only give him a soft nod. “A good girl equals a good fuck toy, a fuck toy does not fucking cum. So I’m going to use you again, and if you cum, well… You’re not going to like it if you cum.”

“Please…” you feel your voice falter, the strength you had earlier washed away by your Master’s continuous maneuvering of your body. “I’ll be a good girl, please, use me.”

“Is my little doll tired?” He asked rhetorically, pouting at you, “Good, you won’t give me too much of a fight then.” The grip in your hair is still tight as he makes you lower down to your knees, the tightness in your legs dissipating as you settle into the plushness of the carpet. The coldness in your body starts to numb down even as droplets of water continue to roll down your skin. You ignore the exhilaration pulsating in your limbs.

Your mind is further away, as if the storm swooped it in one go. Your thinking is slowed, eyes more focused on looking up at the stature of the man who fascinates your body. He tells you to open your mouth wide, and you do. The hand that isn’t threaded in your hair is holding his cock right in front of your mouth, an offering. Your mouth takes him as your tongue circles around it, stroking the underside of his head and pressing into his slit.

You hear Getou sigh, an indication of his enjoyment. He urges your head to go deeper, tongue coaxing the veins along the way. He pushes hard, your nose now grazing his happy trail; you feel your throat tighten up as you start to gag. He continues to hold you down until you can hardly breathe, tears coming out of the corners of your eyes.

He pulls your head back, his cock completely slipping out of your mouth as you start coughing, struggling to take in as much air as you could. Your eyes are wide when making contact with his, trying to look for any sign of approval. He lets go of your hair and taps your cheek, “I thought you wanted to be useful? You’re gonna have to loosen up that throat so I can fuck it properly.” You start to nod your head frantically in agreement; his hand is back on your head, shoving you down his length again. This time, he goes much quicker; you can’t help moaning as your lips wrap around him tighter, unable to do any other movement to please him. Almost losing your balance from the pace he has set, you place your hands slightly behind yourself, gripping the threads of the carpet. Your head tilts up, allowing for some relief to the pressure on your throat. He holds you down once more in place and now you can really feel the full length of him down your throat.

The soreness in your jaw is beginning to settle in. You try to ignore it, listening to the sighs he lets out. He pulls you away once again, your tongue dragging, making sure to feel every part of him. He grunts, “Fuck, it’s much better like this. You really are a fast learner.” He looks down at you and mocks, “It’s hard, isn’t it? To keep yourself from cumming, huh?” A pat on your head, condescending one, he adds, “But you don’t deserve it, I know it and you know it, right? You’ll have to work harder.”

He slides out of your mouth and you keep it open, eyes gazing up as you feel them glazing over, just like any of your conscious thoughts. The only thing you can do at this point is nod your head. The more he puts himself into you, the more you lose your composure. Words are becoming harder to voice; you let your tongue slip out slightly, wetting your lips. A string of saliva drips from your mouth and you see him smirking as he leans down closer to you.

He presses his thumb onto your tongue, letting the mess seep out more down your chin. His thumb follows the trail down your neck. “Look at you, being my good pet,” he says, leg wedging your knees further apart. You sink down further, flush to the carpet, leaning further back on your hands. “Put in the work and I’ll give you a treat.” He stands back up fully, inching closer to you, setting his hand on the back of your head again.

Your lips wrap around him tightly, eyes meeting his in an instant. You raise your eyebrows in an unvoiced question, and he nods in approval. You begin to bob your head up and down slowly, taking charge and making sure he feels your mouth on every part of his cock. You swallow him down all the way as you close your eyes and try to breathe. You feel him twitching as he lets out a groan, the wet sounds from your mouth getting even louder. You pull away, reaching your limit.

One large breath—that’s all the luxury you get.

The grip on your hair tightens again and you can barely keep up as he fucks into your throat faster. You do your best not to gag every time he bumps the roof of your mouth. Moans are flowing out of both of you, along with obscene, wet sounds. You close your eyes tighter as the pace increases, knowing he is close, forcing your mind to give in and go blank. Getou lets out a loud grunt, and you can feel him shatter. He cums into your mouth and you must remind yourself not to swallow it right away, to make sure you collect it all. He slips out of your mouth as more of his release drips to the corners of your lips, down your chin and neck, and flowing to your chest.

Your eyes slowly open. Through wet lashes you see your Master, chest heaving, eyes narrowed, and that cocky grin that always makes your stomach start to flutter. The hand that is not placed on your head runs through his hair as he gazes down at you. The glint in his eyes tells you that he is admiring his work. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out and present it to him, savoring the salty liquid before you are allowed to swallow. He leans over closer to you, your chest heaving as you try and catch your breath, managing to still prop yourself up with your hands. You see the string of clear liquid leave through his lips and fall onto your tongue, mixing in with his cum.

“Now swallow and enjoy every drop of it.” he commands, and you do as you feel his cum and saliva flow down your throat. Once you do, you stick out your tongue showing him there was nothing left. The hand that was behind your head moves to your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek as his index and middle finger on his other hand runs up your chest and neck, collecting the rest of his cum.

“Stupid pet, don’t waste the rest of your meal.” He coos at you, placing his fingers on your tongue with the sticky liquid. You close your mouth, wrapping it around them, tongue swirling around and ensuring you get every drop off. He looks at you with amusement as you clean off his fingers and once you do, he slips them out of your wet cavern. “Such a good, obedient whore for my cock.”

You nod your head and whisper, “I can do better, Master,” throat sore and raspy.

“Good to know, because I’m not done with you yet, I have much more to teach.” His voice is stern, mixed with excitement. Your eyes widen as you study his handsome features, but before your brain can register anything, he picks you up from under your arms and throws you over his shoulder, walking towards the bed. You are becoming dizzy from the blood rushing to your head; you let out a grunt as you feel your ass being slapped then groped by Getou’s large hand. Suddenly, you feel yourself being thrown, your back hitting the mattress, your body relaxing slightly as you lay there.

You feel the mattress dip as Getou climbs on it, moving his body to hover over yours. He begins placing wet kisses along your neck, going down to your chest. His lips are everywhere, kissing every bruise and bite mark along with your untouched skin. He goes down to your left breast, kissing it, his mouth wrapping around your pierced nipple. A moan leaves your lips, back arching, letting him wrap his other arm under you to pull you closer.

You can feel his tongue playing with the metal bar that goes through your skin, sending shivers along it. He pinches your other nipple as he continues to lick and suck at your left one. Another shaky moan is released and you can feel yourself getting wetter, clenching around nothing. Your breaths are getting heavier, wanting to curse him for how talented his mouth is, but it feels so good every single time.

“Already so worked up? I’ve barely done anything.” He grins, “Always so responsive, always so needy.” His words are sweet, but poisonous from how they affect you. His mouth is always affecting you, because all that he says has you feeling so many ways.

“Please Master…”

“Words.” He continues his licking and sucking. “No, wait,” He laughs, “Are you trying to rush me? Doll, I’m only getting started on my meal.” He bites down lightly at your right nipple, pulling at it, making you gasp. “Remember. This isn’t for you, and I’m gonna enjoy this at my slow, painfully slow pace. You may beg, but that’s alright. I enjoy some music while eating.”

He continues the torturous trailing of his tongue on your nipple and skin, now biting around it. Your hips start to roll, searching for any stimulation, and as they do, you feel Getou’s hand slide down your body, stilling them down. Your body shudders as he kisses further down, nipping at your sides. Sliding down further, he wraps his hands around the base of your ass and pulls you closer. He props your knees up, feet planted on the mattress, spreading them wide. He starts to plant kisses traveling up your thigh, biting at the inner parts. Your arms are above your head, fingers gripping into the pillow, the anticipation becoming unbearable.

Your whimpers grow in volume as he inches closer to your sex. He continues his touches on your leg and you try to not squirm, but it is nearly impossible. Your hips keep moving and he stops his bites on your thigh to berate you.

“Move and I stop. Understood?”

You let out a sound of acknowledgement and nod. He slides his fingers up stopping at the top of your inner thigh, your leg twitches slightly.

“How many times should I repeat myself? Use your words.” He continues to stroke his fingers along your thighs.

“I understand, Master.” your breath is shaky along with the words you try to push out from your mouth.

“Mmm, there we go… such a learning curve!” His smirk widens, the obsidian of his eyes shining as the sun is starting to set. The remaining rays cast through the window catch the darkness of his hair and eyes, clinging to it just as he clings on to you. Pulling at the small of your back, he drags you closer, spreading your legs wider. You feel the stretch go through your aching thighs, heels digging further into the mattress. He pulls you up slightly and places a pillow underneath, propping your hips up.

You see him on his knees between your legs, the last of the rays emphasizing each of his tattoos and muscles. Your breath hitches as you try to inhale deeply, acutely aware of the way his eyes scan your entire body as you are exposed to him, and for him only. Burning shame is painting your face and you try to hide it by turning it to the side, hand coming down to cover yourself. As you do, you feel his strong hand bringing yours over your head, clasping both wrists together as his other hand cups your face back to his.

“Stay… I want to see your every expression while you watch yourself drip on my tongue.“ He then smiles, “I will need you to tell me two things, but they’re one and the same, really. Who this pretty pussy belongs to and who’s making you feel like this—just repeat my name, you know, in case you’re too dumb to understand.”

“Yes, Master.” You say quietly, but you know he heard you as he leans away from you, letting go of your face and hands. He leans back again, gathering his long strands of inky hair, putting it back in a neat ponytail near the top of his head. You keep your eyes on him as his muscles flex, moving the strands of hair out of his face. He could be sculpted into a statue like this, you think, admiring his beauty as you prepare yourself to meet your maker.

He leans in closer between your legs, the tingling sensation spreading through your body with the tension of his skin brushing against yours. With a swift movement, he glides his index and middle finger along your center, barely applying any pressure. The goosebumps begin to surface as he swipes up again, gathering some of your wetness on his fingers. He brings them to his mouth, slipping them between his lips as he licks off your arousal. The moan that escapes you seems to be the fuel that ignites him as the last rays of sun dance gently in his eyes, knowing he has you as one the brightest shining stars. His fingers, now wet with his saliva, press and toy with your hole. He coos at you,

“I don’t know how much of you is going to be left once I’m done, because I sure am hungry,” the last part he says slowly, enunciating each of his words, still grazing his fingers along you. You want to beg, you do, but you know it would not change his course.

Finally, he bends down, licking a long stripe along your folds, tongue pressed flat and hard. You whimper from the warmth and sweet relief, but he still teases, avoiding your most sensitive parts. The tip of this tongue continues to move around as he sucks and kisses in between. Before you can process it, a loud moan rips from your throat as his tongue swipes up on your clit and lips suction around it. Your body pulsates in a never-ending rhythm, the pressure pooling in your stomach.

Your fingers itch to grip onto his strands, but you stop yourself from doing so. Instead, they spread out to each of your sides, nails clawing at the sheets as your back arches further. You can feel your arousal dripping further down you as you continue to moan. The man causing you so much pleasure does not miss it and moves his tongue to lick it up, making sure not to miss a drop. At this point, your neck is uncomfortably curved back, your eyes staring at the wall above you.

“Master Getou, Master Getou, please, please…” you start pleading to him, incoherent babbles as your hips rock into his face. His hands are latching onto your waist trying to keep you still, but as his tongue starts moving quickly in and out of your entrance, your body only begins to writhe more. You can feel the heat and pressure increasing as he continues this game of his. Your orgasm is starting to build up fast as your breaths and moans flow out quicker. You start to clench when you feel his tongue flick on your nub again and just as you are so close, ready to let go of everything, you feel it fizzle away as the warmth of his mouth and tongue does too.

You groan loudly as your body settles back into the mattress, your frustrations pooling where your pleasure should have been by now. You’re whispering pleads over and over again, hoping he will give you something, anything.

“It feels good, doesn’t it? Mh? It’s nice…nice doesn’t mean you can relish in it, doll. No cumming, not yet.” he says as he is leaning over you again, his lips close to your ear, but also making sure your bodies are barely touching. “Now who makes you feel so, so good?” he coos at you.

“You, Master Getou.,” you choke out.

“Well taught pet. I’ll give you one opportunity to cum, so sit on my face.” He says as he pulls away and goes to lay down next to you on his back. You turn your head to look at him, wondering if he means it, but in the back of your brain you know it does not matter because you would do anything he says.

“I easily grow impatient. Perhaps a countdown will help? Three–”” he says with the corner of his lips slightly turned up.

You begin to push your body up slowly, feeling all your muscles flexing and tightening trying to make the mere crawl on your way to him. He feels so far away from you when your entire body is this tired, his eyes never leaving you, drawing you in closer. He lays there waiting with his hands behind his head, biceps flexing. His lips stretch out into a lazy smile seeing your effort in coming near him, getting closer to his domain.

You know that although he says he is giving you control, you will always be in the palm of his hand, bending to his will, letting it swallow you whole. Your legs finally straddle his shoulders. You’re holding yourself up as much as you can as you look at the view below. His eyes are still peering at you, looking at every inch of your body. His hands come out from behind his head and you feel them sliding up the back of your thighs, grabbing at your skin as they go up to your waist. His fingertips fuse with your skin as he grips you tighter.

His voice ripples through you, making your body more alert.

“Finally. I am famished.” Each word he emphasizes makes your body almost drop over him, but he keeps hold of you as he pulls you close so you are now on top of his face.

Unlike before, his tongue is quick to lick every part of your pussy. Tracing every single line, every fold. His fingers move as if he wants to weave them in between your ribs, to have you intertwined with his body in every way possible.

You start rocking your hips, wanting more. His nose hits your clit over and over again, making little whimpers slide from the back of your throat. His moaning and hot breath against you has your stomach tightening as your arousal increases. As his tongue moves in and out of your hole, your hands graze up your own body, your fingers starting to trace your nipples lightly.

A low moan leaves you as Getou’s lips suck hard on your clit and one of his hands clashes with one of your ass cheeks, making you pull harder on your nipples. Sweat starts pooling at the nape of your neck, your body prickling with warmth. The sensation is starting to become too much to bear.

You can feel your wetness growing as Getou starts sucking on your skin, the sounds gradually escalating in the room. His hands make their new home on the back of your thighs, gripping them tightly, securing your spot on his face. Gasps are flowing through you as you start to clench around his tongue. You’re feeling each sound he vibrates against you, tongue still flicking and sliding on every crevice followed by his lips.

You are not sure if you can hold it in any longer as the fuzziness starts taking over your head and the shaking of your legs is beyond your control. His lips are now on your clit again sucking hard and you nearly scream from the pleasure that shoots through your body. This is the closest you have been to letting go all evening and it feels so good, you wish you could be in this position all the time. You are ready to release all the buildup and all the tension that has been stored in since the beginning of the evening.

Your high has been ripped away from you again. You are now on your back, pressed into the mattress. You are heaving, chest rising quickly, the vibrations of your body stopping completely. The tears rolling out from the corner of your eyes fall down the side of your face and you can feel the wetness pooling in your ears. The frustration rises through your body as you have been denied your orgasm yet another time. You want to crawl away, curl up and hide somewhere, knowing Getou may not even let you reach your peak. You would get away from him, you really would, but the soreness of your body is settling into the deepest parts of your muscles, making it difficult to move. And in any case, you know Getou would only drag you right back.

“Oh? Is my pet crying? Try harder, add more tears, it’s bound to make me merciful, right?” he says condescendingly, “I did tell you this was not about you, but you are so greedy you let your silly brain make you believe you would cum! Hah!”

You continue to lay there in your hazed state, trying to grasp the words Getou is saying to you. You are trying to listen, but the exhaustion is starting to kick in, your mind wandering somewhere else. A grunt leaves your mouth as you feel your body being rolled over, stomach now pressing into the mattress as your head is turning to one side. The warmth of Getou’s body is over yours, chest onto your back, his arms caging in on either side of you. His lips brush against your ear; kissing, licking, biting at it as he continues to talk to you.

“Tired?“ This time it was him, your boyfriend, not your Master, you could hear it in his voice. Lowering his tone, it was like a confession as he spoke, “You know we can stop at any time. If you say you are done, then you are done and I stop. We can relax for the rest of the evening.” He smiled sweetly, “Limits are there to be respected, for both of us to enjoy this. Don’t push yourself to an extreme you would regret, sweetheart.”

His words start to resonate with you and there is a part of you that is honestly exhausted, who would love nothing more than a hot bath and to curl up in bed, but the other part of you still wants more. You still wanted to feel everything Getou has to offer you. You find the strength to answer him, “I can take more, Master.””

“What is your color?”

“Green.”

He smiles, “I knew my little whore had some spunk to her,” he says as his teeth dug into your shoulder. “Now what do you want more of?”

“All of you. I am yours…” You know you are breaking the scene by not calling him Master or sir, but you also know showing your sincerity and want, your need for him to continue tells him you could keep going.

“That’s my fucking girl. Always so good for me. You know how much I love to be in my pussy,” the huskiness in his tone makes your stomach flutter, your heart beating quicker as his lips brush against the side of your face.

His body still flush against yours, you feel one of his hands travel down, pushing your legs apart slightly as he begins to brush two of his fingers on your heat. Your body twitches slightly from his touches; everything is so sensitive, but the feeling of pleasure rising again was tasting so good.

“Look at my pussy, always so wet for me. Always so sensitive. How can it always be dripping for me like this? Does your pussy need me that bad?”

“Please Master Getou, please please I need you. Please stop teasing, I need you inside me. It… it’s all yours… just…”

“Of course it’s all mine,” he says as you can feel the tip against your opening, “Look how… responsive my pussy is for me…” he continues to say, pushing himself more into you. You moan from the stretch of his cock filling you, pulsating around him. Once he is all the way inside, your back arches into him more, making him hit even deeper than he already is. His hand comes back near your face, pads of his fingers brushing against your lips as you taste yourself. Your mouth wraps around his fingers more, sucking as he begins rocking his hips slowly against your ass. You release more moans as his fingers greedily press against your tongue, coaxing all the sounds out. You continue to arch and move your hips to meet his, trying to feel every bit of him inside of you. The warmth in your face grows as he continues to kiss and bite at your ear and neck, whispering how your pussy is his and his alone.

His thrusts start to become faster and deeper, your hands reaching out to grip the sheets as whimpers and gasps leave your mouth to fill up the room, combined with his heavy breaths. Removing his fingers from your mouth, they make home onto your neck, holding it snug in his grip. You begin to clench more around him as his thrusts start to hit a pleasurable spot. You wish you could grip him tighter and hold him in place, where he can continuously rub against that one spot only.

“Look how my pussy wants to hold onto me. She is so needy, isn’t she? And you are too, my little pet?” he states between ragged breaths. You are not sure if you can form anything coherent to answer him back as he keeps sliding in and out of you, making you gasp.

“She… she is so needy… only for you. All yours, Master… it’s all yours…” you manage to breathe out.

You feel him rise and you groan as the cold air hits your back. His arm pulls at your waist as he brings you up with him, and you settle on your forearms in the new position. His other arm wraps around your neck and shoulders, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest again.

He holds you tight in between his arms, ensuring your movements are limited. You feel his pace quickening as your body rocks with his, the sound of skin slapping and rubbing against each other grows louder alongside both you and your Master's moans. Your knees are barely on the mattress with him thrusting so powerfully and holding you so close to his body.

His fingers start to slowly rub circles on your clit. You cannot help but let out a high pitched gasp. The pressure you feel between your legs and your lower stomach becomes greater and you feel yourself gushing as he twirls his fingers around your nub more, keeping up his pace. His other hand grabs your jaw and turns it back towards him giving you a passionate open-mouthed kiss. Lips and teeth crash together in a fight of who wants more of the other. You are teetering on the line of it not being enough and all too much, all at once. Getou is sliding in and out of you at such a pace that your vision goes dark. He puts more pressure on your clit and the wave is beginning to consume your body.

You let out a grunt, thinking you are finally letting go, but are shocked by your body crashing into the mattress. When your eyes finally adjust, you notice that he is balancing his weight on one of his knees, his other leg extended out in front of him with his foot pressing on your head. You start to feel a warm, thick liquid on your back; he has found his release. You groan again as you have been denied for who knows how many times.

“Doll, all your attention is on me. It should always be on me. Now remember, I’ll leave a longer lasting impression than that tattoo ever will.”

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A/N: Well I hope you all enjoyed the fic. So the backstory of writing this was a challenge from the discord server I am a part of. We were talking about what fictional character you would basically let them do anything. I of course chose this God of a man. Then it went on to kinks and what would be hard nos or hard yeses or maybes. So obviously the piss kink get brought up and it started it as a joke, but then it formed to a challenge and 13.8k words later, here we are!

Please give this fic some love, it will be greatly appreciated!

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