#strade x ren

[gunsmith0]

Proud dad

[threeyrslost]

Art block is waning, but I should be back to normal soon! (You can kinda tell, sorry </3 Pls don’t beat me to death with rocks)

Time Taken: 2 1/2 hours

App/Software: IbisPaint X

[hiskillingjar]

sick little games

Relationship(s): Strade/Reader, Ren/Reader, Lawrence/Reader, Strade/Ren, Fox/Reader Rating: Explicit Contains: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Coercion, Extremely Dubious Consent, Leather, Sexual Roleplay, Sweat, Armpit Kink, Boot Worship, Blood and Injury, Chastity, Gore, Amputation, Praise, Humiliation, Daddy Kink, Teratophilia, Monster Fucking, Master/Slave, Latex, Costumes, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Threesome, Oral Sex, Shotgunning, Drug Use, Menophilia, Period Blood, Body Modification, Piercings, Exhibitionism, Watersports, Gags, Lingerie, Panties, Bondage, Emetophilia, Vomiting, Collars, Overstimulation, Vibrators, Breathplay, Asphyxiation Length: Multi-chaptered, 33,000+ words

Summary: [Last update: Breathplay] A collection of one-shots based around Kinktober prompts.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50629204

Leather and Latex (Strade/MC)

"Ah, look at you, little punk rocker."

You instantly stilled as Strade opened the door of your (his) room, your hands freezing at the zip of the leather skirt that was pulled tightly around your hips. In the months of being his captive, wearing and re-wearing your old clothes and borrowing some of his when you had to, you would have never been so bold as to ask Strade for clothes like this, but…you were pleasantly surprised when it had turned up with an order he'd done for you (no doubt with a bit of Ren's assistance, though).

That didn't stop you from being incredibly self-conscious when he walked in and saw you wearing something so daring though.

"Punk rocker?" You said, doing your best not to flinch at the sound of his voice, glancing towards him as he idled in the doorway of your (his) room, his arms crossed, your hands freezing at your sides and unwilling to move. "D-Do I look punk rock to you?" You then asked with an attempt at a smile, despite how nervous you now felt.

"Mm," Strade hummed as his smile grew, stepping forward and placing a hand on your hip, feeling the tight leather against his skin, the teeth of the silver zip. "Very punk rock. I like it." He dug his fingers a little harder against your soft hip, pulling you in a little closer. "What's the occasion? Trying to sneak into Berghain or something?"

You swallowed, a look of quiet confusion on your face (like he was telling a joke you didn't understand) as your hands stayed still.

"Do you always get this nervous around me?" Strade laughed and his golden eyes glittered with unique cruelty, sadistically amused, like a schoolboy pulling at a bug's wings, watching you with thinly veiled excitement as you grew more and more nervous at his presence. "Or are you just being modest, hm?"

"I'm not, mmf-!" You let out a little squeak as he gave the zip of the skirt a good yank, pulling it shut and pulling the leather even tighter around your arse. 

The skirt is maybe a size too small for you, squeezing in all of the right (or wrong, if you were being honest) places, and it's enough to make your legs tremble as he bracketed your hips with his hands, pressing you against the edge of the bed. 

"You know that your modesty is no good here, fraulein," He teased softly with a little chuckle, leaning forward to press his lips to your neck, his teeth smiling into your skin. "Especially when your body looks this good trussed up in leather. Not like I'm surprised, of course," He then pressed you down into the bed, the hem of the skirt shifting upwards and exposing your soft, scarred thighs. "You'd look good trussed up anything~"

You took in a sharp little gasp as he nipped your neck playfully, reaching up to press your hands to his chest, an attempt to push him away when all you wanted to do was pull him forward, let him take you as he wanted.

There was a predatory gleam in Strade's eyes, as there often was with you, with his prey, as he observed how the tight-fitting material hugged your soft curves, the skirt clinging and creaking as it rosee even higher up your hips and thighs.

A slow and salacious smile spread across his lips as he placed a hand on one of your scars and let it drift upwards to the exposed hem of your panties.

"So tight..." He purred softly, dragging the bridge of his nose against your jaw. "That makes one thing of yours tight, huh?"

Your face flushed bright red at how crudely he spoke to you, and your obvious embarrassment made him grin and laugh heartily as he pushed you down to the bed and leered above you, his golden eyes growing ever more excited.

"You really need to stop being so reactive, fraulein." He said, still laughing as he placed a knee on one side of your hips, the mattress dipping beneath the two of you. "It makes you too much fun to play with and tease.

Roleplay (Ren/MC)

"I think when couples talk about roleplaying in the bedroom, they have other ideas in mind."

Your voice was flat and monotone as you crossed your arms and gave Ren a somewhat irritated look, looking down at the ridiculous cosplay outfit he had somehow managed to get you dressed up in. 

It was the typical sort of thing he liked, a short skirt with ruffle after ruffle of tulle bunched up underneath and grazing your thighs, thigh-high socks with lacy bands that bit into your soft flesh, long gloves, and plenty of bows to make you feel that much more ridiculous. You didn't understand what anime he was trying to reference with the outfit, if he was referencing one at all, nor would you care to understand if he tried to explain.

"I don't even know what role I'm supposed to be playing." You continued, idly pulling at the bow at the center of your chest and eyeing him as he beamed across the room, looking pleased as punch. "Am I a schoolgirl or something?"

"I mean, not exactly," He said with a grin, standing forward and pacing to your side, his tail idly swishing behind him. "You're, like, a part-time schoolgirl and a part-time magical girl, defending the world from aliens and overlords, and that kind of thing."

"Right," You replied, looking over at him with a raised brow. You had thought he'd be more creative than just having a schoolgirl fantasy. "And that's sexy to you?"

"It's very sexy to me," He replied with a little chuckle, his cheeks flushing a healthy pink as he continued to pace around you, circling you, a sweet-faced predator assessing their stoic prey. He was deceptive in that way, masking his darker and more violent desires with dweebish sweetness. It was as scary as it was intriguing. "But, ah, this character is even better, because she has a love interest that she's obsessed with, like, scary obsessed. It makes her that much more cuter to me."

"Mm, I can guess why," You mumbled, your own cheeks flushing a little as he continued to pace around you. "You like when someone is scary obsessed?"

"Can you blame me?" He said with a slightly sardonic smile, before stopping in front of you and taking a step closer. He was a lot shorter than you, but that never stopped you from getting a little nervous around him. "The rest of the stuff doesn't matter that much, but...you know. I want you to play that role."

You let out a little huff through your nose and peered down at him through half-lidded eyes. It would be up to him how he interprets that gaze.

"You want me to be the obsessive one for a change, huh?" You asked softly, not minding completely when he reached out and rubbed the tulle of your skirt with his thumb and forefinger.

"Maybe just for tonight," He murmured back, his own eyes softening with poorly concealed lust, his tail idly wagging behind him. Always so obvious with what he wanted, you could only hope that you weren't that obvious yourself. “Maybe I’d like to understand how it feels too. For someone to be obsessed with you,” His words were soft as his touch reached up your skirt and over the bodice of the costume. "Is that a bad thing for me to want?"

"No," You mumbled back, gently taking his wrists in each hand and pushing them down to his front. "That's not a bad thing for you to want. I just need to figure out how to do it, I guess..."

"Don't think about it too hard," He replied softly, leaning in close and dragging his lips over yours, plush and full. "Just do what feels right. Do what feels natural."

You let out a shaky little sigh, still holding on tightly to his wrists, his delicate little wrists, his pale skin, his dark veins that stood out so harshly, as he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth, another to your chin, another to your jaw. 

Always so obvious about what he wanted.

"I...I saw you talking to other girls at school today," You stammered slightly, your voice uncharacteristically soft and sweet sounding, enough that it made Ren pause and look at you, his eyes wide and excited, evidently pleased to be getting what he wanted. "I wasn't following you or anything...I just saw-"

"It was-" He cut you off, trying to hide just how excited he still was at this idea, that you were playing along with his fantasy. "I  had a few questions about the homework we have, that's all, I swear."

"You could have asked me," You replied quickly, an exaggerated pout to your lips, trying to get into the headspace of this kind of character...well, kind of person that Ren wanted you to be. You couldn't help but imagine how he would have reacted in a situation like this, and channel it into what you were saying yourself. "You know I'm always looking out for you, more than anyone. You know that I would do anything for you, right?"

"I know," He mumbled, his cheeks flushing a little darker as you held his wrists even tighter, digging your nails into his skin. "I didn't mean to upset you...I really didn't, I swear."

"But you did," You replied then, your gaze growing a little darker as you leaned in close to him, so close that you could feel his quick little breaths against your skin, the heat from his cheeks against your own. "And if you upset me again, I won't have any choice but to...to hurt any girl you talk to. You'll have forced me into it." 

You spoke so softly that you wondered if he had trouble hearing you, but when his ears twitched forward and his tail started to wag more rapidly, you knew that he had heard you loud and clear.

"You...y-you don't have to do that," He stammered, doing his best to play his own role of a helpless boyfriend, though he couldn't hide his excitement or obvious arousal (since the front of his jeans were already straining), no matter how much he tried to. "I really don't have eyes for anyone but you, don't you believe me?"

"Not at all," You said with a sweet smile, keening in even closer and forcing him to step backward, his butt hitting his desk. "I don't believe you at all, but that's okay...I'll just have to make sure that no girls ever talk to you again...since you only have eyes for me."

"Oh god," He took in a shaky breath, tilting his chin upwards a touch as you dragged your lips down his neck, kissing, nipping, leaving behind little bites. He reached upwards to press his hands to your chest, your own hands still around his wrists, and gripped the bows stitched to the bodice of your outfit, pulling you in even closer, the bulge in his jeans rubbing against your thigh. "Mm...please don't hurt anyone, please..."

"I won't have to if you stay with me, love," You purred then, a hidden smile on your face as you kissed his collarbone, dragging your teeth over his skin and listening to him whine and flinch. "I love you more than anything, Ren...and I'll gladly kill to keep the one I love with me, always..."

Sweat (Lawrence/MC)

Lawrence let out a soft, little sigh as you pressed your chest against their back, your hands reaching around and pressing up the front of their jacket (the branded fleece from the warehouse which matched their sweatpants), under their shirt. 

When you pressed your face into their shoulder, their long hair tickling your cheek as you did, they smelled of musk and soaked in sweat, heady and masculine, with the underlying scent of plant matter and fresh soil clinging onto them, as it always did. It was addictive and you pressed harder against them, their hips pressing into their kitchen counter as their body went rigid and tight.

"Mm," They moaned very softly, very quietly, their head going forward and their hands (big hands, bigger than yours) reaching up to feel where you're pushing up their shirt. "I-I should go shower...I've just come back from work." They shivered a little, a slight hitch to their voice as you ran your fingers over one of their nipples. "I'm all sweaty..."

"That's okay. I like it like that." Your tone was playful, teasing almost, yet your words betrayed an underlying lust and want for Lawrence's body as you leaned in closer again, now breathing into Lawrence's ear. "I like it when you're all sweaty and gross for me. It turns me on."

Lawrence moaned again as your lips trailed down behind their ear, down their neck, your lust and hunger growing too great to even try and suppress. When you ran your tongue down the side of their neck, down to the wide collar of their shirt and their exposed collarbone, you could taste the traces of salt and sweat, and it was enough to make you moan and want even more. 

"Let me worship you," You mumbled, your voice thick with lusting and want as you squeezed the soft flesh of their chest and dragged your hips against their arse. "Be mine, baby..."

"Ahh..." Lawrence groaned softly, low at the back of their throat, as you urged them to face you, your hands on their hips and pressing them back against the kitchen counter. Their sweet face was flushed and their eyes were hazy and lustful, despite how much they were shaking and trembling. "Yeah. I'm yours."

You smiled softly and leaned in to meet Lawrence's lips with your own, your free hand reaching up to cup their stubbly cheek and pulling them down to deepen the kiss, your tongue running over their chapped lips and pressing into their whimpering mouth. 

Your other hand occupied itself with peeling off their jacket, pushing it down their shoulders and their arms, before pushing their shirt up their long, trembling torso, exposing their skinny, pale form, slightly damp with a sheen of sweat.

"Let me taste you," You whispered, pulling back from the kiss (just barely, your lips still dragging over theirs) before you started to kiss along their collar, down their sternum, down towards their chest. "Let me taste your body."

"Ahhn," Lawrence groaned again, their hazy eyes squeezing shut as you dragged your tongue over their chest, barely tracing over a pert nipple before you gently pushed their shirt up even further, exposing their armpits, dusted lightly with blonde hair, and forcing their arms above their head. "Mph..."

"Be good," You mumbled softly, before pressing an experimental kiss to Lawrence's pale clavicle, keeping both hands on their hips, keeping them still. "Stay still and let me enjoy you."

When you were this close, the smell of sweat was even stronger, tangy and a little sour, potent after a long day of hard work, and it made your head spin a little, in the very best way. 

"D-Don't," Lawrence mumbled softly, their soft lips trembling, their eyes squeezing shut as their face flushed even darker in embarrassment. "Please don't..." 

You didn't say anything as you leaned down a little more and pressed a kiss to the deepest groove of their armpit, your nose nestling against the slightly damp hairs, breathing in the thick smell of their sweat. You couldn't resist a deep moan as you buried yourself more against their skin and dragged your tongue over them, tasting them, tasting the thick scent, the sour, salty taste of their sweat. 

"Fuuuck..." Lawrence drawled out with a desperate whimper, their body trembling, and when you peered towards their face, you could see that their face was that much more flushed and they were biting their lip. When you took one hand off their shaking hips and let it run over the bulge in their sweatpants, you felt how hard they were, in spite of their embarrassment (or maybe because of it). 

"God, you make me crazy," You mumbled softly, your voice thick with lust as you delved your tongue back against their armpit, moaning in pleasure as it worked its way against the sweaty and warm flesh hidden from the world, squeezing their hard cock and relishing in the hitched gasps they let out at the pressure and grip of your fist. "You smell so fucking good."

Lawrence bit their lip again, their hips keening forward as you slid a hand into their sweatpants, feeling the aching length of their cock practically tenting the fabric of their boxers. The quiet sounds of pleasure they let out were enough to spur you on to indulge even further, the taste and the smell of their armpit almost intoxicating as you sucked on the skin, the wide span of your tongue taking in every morsel of their sweat-slicked skin.

"I can only dream of how your cock smells right now, baby," You mumbled hotly, breathing heavily against Lawrence's tight bicep, your nose still nestled against their pit. "Want me to find out?"

"Mmhmm," Lawrence mumbled with a shy nod of their head, still squeezing their eyes shut and keening their hips forward, pressing their cock into the tight grip of your fist, biting their lip hard. "Please..."

You smiled and pressed one last kiss against the grove of their armpit, indulgently drinking in the flavor and the smell of their body. You were totally lost in that moment, lost in Lawrence and lost in his own intense pleasure. 

All you could hear was Lawrence's desperate moans and your own ragged breath.

"Good girl.”

Boot Worship (Strade/MC)

"Come on now, you know what the camera wants to see."

Strade's voice was a low purr as he stepped in front of you, taking the recording camera off of its tripod and moving the blinking red light, the uncaring and cold gaze of the lens, in front of your bruised and bloody face.

You swallowed a mixture of blood and mucus, pulling at your bound wrists in a weak attempt to cradle your very recently broken nose and cower away from him and his camera, though to no avail. The tight bondage bit into your skin and burned your wrists the more you pulled, adding more and more to the throbbing pain that was permeating through your body.

"How cute," He chuckled unkindly, reaching forward to grab your jaw and pull it closer to the camera, giving the unseen audience a good look at your mangled face. "Ah, though maybe not so cute now, hm? Now that little nose is all broken and bloody." He idly tapped a gloved finger against the broken bone, making you immediately whine in pain and jerk your chin upwards to get away from his grip. "Aw, don't worry, liebling. The chat still thinks you're as cute as a button."

He set the camera back on its tripod and adjusted the lens of the camera down to the concrete floor, which was now dotted with the dripping blood from your nose. He then stood back in front of you, his golden eyes dangerously amused and his brows quirking slightly, the only visible indication of his pleased expression when the mask was in the way. 

"You've made a mess," He said with a tilt of his head, idly gesturing to where you were still bleeding. "You better clean it up."

"Huh?" You stammered softly, looking up to meet his eyes with your own frightened expression. "C-Clean it up?"

"You heard me," He replied, his tone a little more terse and stern than it was. "Don't pretend to be dumber than you are, fraulein, it doesn't suit you."

Despite how much pain you were in, despite the streaming blood from your nose, the ropes biting into your wrists, and the bruises, cuts, and grazes that made your half-naked body ache and shiver, you couldn't stop a light flush coming to your cheeks when he referred to you with such intimate pet names. 

It wasn't fair that he could get you trembling with fear and trembling with want with one word if he tried to.

None of this was fair.

"Clean. It. Up." He finally said again, his voice low and authoritative, with another gesture towards the spots of blood under his feet. "You know how."

You swallowed down the mixture of blood and mucus again before you nodded hesitantly and lowered your head down to the floor the best you could, your muscles tensing and tight to hold your upper body up while your arms were still bound. 

Slowly, and without another word from him, you began to drag your tongue over the floor, the coppery taste of your own blood and grime from the cement mingling on your taste buds. You could feel yourself trembling from not only the pain and discomfort but also the humiliation of having to clean up the mess that you had made. 

You could only guess how the chat was responding to such an embarrassing act of submission.

"Oh, would you look at that?" He said casually, before teasingly pressing the tip of his shoe against your cheek and jerking your attention back up and towards him and the camera. "You've got your mess all over my boot too. Guess you'll have to clean that as well, while you're down there."

You squeaked quietly when he nudged you again but quickly did as you were told, running your tongue along the dirty rubber sole of his boot as he held it in front of your face. You knew that you must have been tasting wherever he had been that day, dirt and gravel and god knows what else, but you didn't care.

All you cared about was cleaning up your mess and looking good for the camera while you did it. All you cared about was pleasing him.

"There we go," Strade drawled, his eyes softening above his mask as he watched you indulgently. "Such a good little dog under my feet. Make sure you clean the rest too, don't forget."

You didn't forget, and he didn't need to remind you as you obediently raised your chin a little to run your tongue over the tip of his boot, tasting the musky old leather and suppressing a moan as you licked up and down, cleaning and recleaning the dripping blood from your nose, all the while panting and whimpering against the boot as you did so. 

Your spit was thick with blood as it drooled across his boot, making the old leather shine like it was brand new and polished to a luxurious sheen.

"Getting excited, hm?" He then asked, his voice sounding a little ragged as he reached forward to pull at the back of your panties, forcing a little shriek from your lips, muffled by leather, as the gusset was pulled tight against your wet cunt. "It would be nice to have a camera behind you, so I could see that wet spot growing in your panties, fraulein. So I could see how much you wanted me, even while I do things like this to you."

You whimpered again against the leather, but made no movement to stop your worship at his feet as he kept pulling at your panties, listening to each one of your muffled shrieks and watching your bent body tremble and spasm with pleasure. 

"You'll have to make sure that you've cleaned all the blood off, or we'll just have to keep this going on and on," He continued, though, from the way he said it, he didn't see much of a problem in the idea. "So, let's be sure that they're spotless, ja?"

Chastity (Ren/MC)

You couldn't hold back a little squeak as Ren locked the heavy-duty chastity belt around your hips and between your legs, the soft click of the first padlock being threaded through the metal loop that rested atop your belly being enough to make you tremble even more than you already were.

You had behaved badly, or at least, he thought you had behaved badly enough to be kept like this for a while.

The length of time was up to him, naturally, and he hadn't made a decision about it yet. 

He was happy enough just locking up the padlocks and watching you tremble and shiver, it seemed, as he stayed on his knees in front of you, focusing intently on his task.

"How long are you going to keep this on?" You asked softly with a little pout, looking down at the young man, his tail wagging gleefully behind him, as he locked the second padlock between your legs (but not before pressing the cold metal toy attached to it up inside you first, keeping you full).

"Oh, you know. However long I feel like, really." Ren replied with an innocent smile, taking both of the keys to the locks and theading them on a ball chain he fished from his shirt pocket. "It could be days. Or weeks, or months. Who knows!" He let out a laugh then, raising his brows beneath his bangs and standing up to his feet as his ears tilted forward with excited anticipation. "Maybe I'll keep it on forever."

Your eyes went wide and scared at his playful threat, which only encouraged him to step closer towards you, his innocent smile fading into a sharp grin on his face and his tail wagging even more rapidly.

"Wouldn't that be something?" He continued, bracketing his hands on the metal bands at your hips as his tail wound around your bare legs, soft and teasing. “Keeping you full and desperate for release, forever and ever, without any hope of rescue?” He let out a giddy little breath. “Just saying it is getting me hot.” 

"W-Well, why would you do something like that?" You stammered softly, biting your lip as he continued to idly fiddle with the padlock of the belt, his eyes drifting down to the thick metal waistband digging into your soft flesh, marking your skin. You could already feel that it was going to leave a stark imprint behind. "If I'm all...belted up, forever, you wouldn't get to-"

"I wouldn't get to fuck you?" He finished for you with another little chuckle, keening up (on his tiptoes) to press a kiss, a teasing bite to your jaw, digging his fingers around the metal band and pulling your hips close to his. You could already feel how hard he was getting through his jeans. He wasn’t kidding around then. "No, that's true. I wouldn't get to do that...but honestly, I think it'll be worth it to keep you so wound up and desperate all the time." He chuckled again, and ran his nose against your neck, scenting you. " I think it'll be worth it, anyway. And that’s kind of all that matters, hm?"

"But...mph," You let out a soft groan from the back of your throat as he continued to rut his hips against yours, looking for whatever stimulation he could against the hard metal despite how much he was insisting otherwise. "Why?"

"Because I want to," He said, his voice a touch softer, watching with half-lidded eyes as your own flitted to the side, trying to avoid his hungry gaze as he continued to toy with the padlock. "Because I can. Even knowing that you're unable to play with yourself right now and feeling your frustration is enough for me."

Your cheeks flushed a little (a lot) darker as he brought his face close to yours with a salacious smile, licking his fangs indulgently like a fox would as he took in your embarrassed expression.

"And...what if I beg for you to take it off?" You asked, peering back towards him, your face growing more flush as you noticed him string the ball chain around his neck, the keys to your padlocks shining against his chest. 

"Well, it'll be up to me to decide if you deserve it," He replied, the sharpness in his grin settling into a cruel smirk as he keened up again to kiss your neck one last time. "And I'm pretty tough to convince...especially when I want something as badly as this."

Gore (Strade/MC)

When your eyes finally opened, the first thing that hit you was the smell.

The air in the basement was thick with the putrid smell of blood and gore, grime and rust. Enough to make you retch, though all you managed to puke up was a foul splatter of burning stomach bile as your body hunched over the best it could. 

That, of course, only added to the disgusting smells that surrounded you already.

It added to the twisting pain in your body, added to the burning at the back of your throat.

It felt like hell.

Like you had traveled so deep into the inferno, delved into the darkest corners of your own psyche, that you were past the point of any kind of return, too far gone to even try and save.

Your head lolled back against the support beam you were tied to, vomit streaked down your chin and your eyes were hazy and dazed.

"Hmph. You're not gonna last like that," Strade said as he turned off the recording camera, tugging down the scarf that concealed his face when he was streaming before standing above you, his hands on his hips. "You might even need to see a doctor. That looks pretty gruesome, buddy!"

The pain was the second thing that hit you.

Immeasurable pain, pain that you couldn't even hope to fathom before all of this happened, before that first night in this fucking basement and the countless nights that came after it. 

It was like a deep ache, harsh and burning, that shook you to your very core, making you yank at your bondage in an attempt to cover your bile-stained lips, just so you wouldn't hear the wreaked sob you let out when you could finally feel it.

But you couldn't, so you were left to sob openly, hiccuping little breaths and desperate gasps that didn't convey even a fraction of how badly you were hurting, how badly every nerve and synapse in your body was burning and screaming.

Tears streaked down your cheeks, snot and drool were dripping onto your shaking chest, half-naked and bloody in its own right, and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head as your body spasmed and twitched, desperately trying to will the pain to go away, even just a little.

The jug of hydrofluoric acid loomed dangerously in your vision, placed on the wooden bench like it was there to taunt and tease you.

You spasmed again with a miserable whimper when you felt another drip of the liquid pool down your knee and eat into your already melting skin.

"The camera might have liked it, but I really can't have you staying like this," He continued with a light click of his tongue, wiping his hands off on his trousers and taking another step closer to you, crouching down to one knee to inspect the damage and running the tip of his finger along one of the worst acid burns, watching you flinch and squirm. "You'll go into shock, and, well," He let out a little chuckle. "We can't have that, can we?"

He tilted his head with a mock sympathetic look, though he looked completely unbothered by your pain. 

"Hurt, doesn't it?" He asked, his voice low and lilting as he tilted his head towards you, one of his dark brows raised in an idle question. "I know, I know." He laughed and waved one of his hands, showing off a few acid burns on his fingers, indicating a messy past, maybe a few mistakes he'd made with victims like you. "Trust me, I know."

Though, there weren't victims like you. Not really. Not that he had kept for such a long time.

"Mind if I take a look?" He then asked with a little shrug of his shoulders, though he didn't wait for a reply before he wrapped a hand around your ankle and wrenched your mangled leg out straight, hard and fast. 

You let out a pained shriek as he did so, pressing your other knee up to your vomit-slicked chest as he inspected it critically, his golden eyes scanning over each bloody, burned patch of flesh and melted skin. 

"W-What are you going t-to do?" You stammered, your voice meek and pathetic, each word wavering and your body spasming.

"Relax, fraulein," He replied, his voice surprisingly calm and authoritative, so relaxed himself that it was a tad bit disconcerting. "I'm just gonna have a look, that's all."

Your jaw trembled at the still thrumming pain as he continued to stare down, your eyes flitting shut as you let out a soft moan of subdued agony. You could feel your head getting heavy and fuzzed, and you wondered if you might lose consciousness soon from the pain of the acid burn.

Without even looking at him, you know the sight of your pain is amusing Strade. 

"You're in quite a bit of pain, eh?" He asked, a dark smile evident in his voice while he took a longer moment to observe the extent of your leg's injuries. 

Despite your attempts to fight it, your body is unable to suppress the pain and you moan loudly again.

"I know what to do...don't you fret."

Before you could even notice his hand moving from your ankle, or hear the sound of him crossing the basement floor, you felt the ragged teeth of a bone saw almost immediately cut through the burned skin and into the meat of your lower thigh.

Your eyes shot wide and bloodshot with terror and you screamed, oh, how you screamed, louder than you ever had before, like a dying animal, and tried desperately hard to lurch back, away from him. But your binds around the basement's support beam, and the grip he had on your ankle, pulled out straight once again, was stronger than a vice. 

He barely seemed bothered at all as you thrashed and bucked beneath him. 

He was just humming to himself, like this was an everyday activity for him (and maybe it was). That sadistic smirk on his face remained, despite everything.

Rivulets of blood ran from the jagged gash and down your melted skin and coagulated flesh, leaving a steadily growing puddle on the cement floor.

So much blood.

So much fucking blood.

You couldn't stop screaming, and yet he barely reacted, sparing only a glance towards your face, seemingly reveling in your torture. The sound of your screams and the sight of your visible injuries excited him more than anything, after all, a fact you had come to learn in the time you'd come to know him.

His total disinterest in your pain, your agony, made you sob even harder, tears stinging the various cuts and scrapes on your cheeks, smearing blood, snot, and bile further down your face, your chin, your spasming chest. You could hear yourself begging, pleading, stop, stop, please, I'll do whatever you want, just PLEASE-! but the voice barely sounded human, let alone sounded like your own.

It felt like dying.

In a way, you would have preferred if you had died.

You wouldn't have to live like this, live through whatever was in store for you, live with the knowledge that you had practically handed yourself to him on a silver platter.

You didn't even want to imagine.

Through your sobs, you managed to vomit down your front again from the sheer pain and disgust that was rushing through you, and it hurt even more than last time. It made you cry just a little bit harder as you jerked your head up to the basement ceiling, wide, frightened eyes fixing on the swinging lightbulb above your head, desperate not to look.

Praying to a God who had long abandoned you.

The saw ripped through your bone with a sickening crunch which sent an electric shock of white-hot agony through your spine and up to the base of your skull.

Screaming would surely do nothing to deter him, but you can't help but keep trying.

You couldn't pull away though. 

He was too strong and your body already felt like it was going to give out just from moving for even a second. Any hope that you might have had drained out of you almost as quickly as your blood drained, and you felt your head get heavier and heavier, on the precipice of consciousnesses as he persisted with his gruesome task.

Maybe fainting would have been better. You wouldn't have to see any of this, listen to his idle humming, listen to the sound of the blade through your leg.

But you'd have to wake up. And what to?

You wanted so desperately to die.

He only had to give the dangling limb a good pull before the last shred of skin snapped and your leg fell to the scum-spotted cement floor with a deafening thud.

You couldn't scream, though you desperately wanted to.

You could only lay your head back against the support beam and silently weep, your mind practically dead behind your eyes and your lips parted with spasming little whimpers, as he sat the bone saw down and yanked the belt from the waistband of his trousers to wrap around your now bleeding stump of a leg, a poor man's tourniquet to stop the bleeding for a little while. 

His nostrils flared a little and he scrunched his nose at the smell. You had pissed yourself in the midst of this, which only added to the foray of foul smells in the basement. 

“Scheiße,” He muttered softly to himself as he pulled the belt a notch or two tighter, before murmuring something else in German that you didn’t understand.

Your stomach twisted tight again. 

"Ren!" He shouted over his shoulder as he stood to his feet, his hands on his hips again. "I'm gonna need your help down here, bud, come quick."

Praise (Lawrence/MC)

"Would you...is it okay if I touch you?" Lawrence asked tentatively, looking up to meet your eyes with their own, pale grey and doe-like in their pseudo-innocence. They were very careful to not move toward you at all when they asked the question, giving you the space that you needed to reciprocate.

Granted, you were tied to a chair and they were standing tall over you, but at least they had the decency to look uncomfortable about the situation.

"T-Touch me?" You repeated with a little stammer, your pallid, sweaty face giving away your hesitance.

You swallowed hard as the two of you stared at each other for a moment, but you didn't pull back as they took a cautious step closer to you, entered your space, and idly stroked through the long, sweaty hair trailing down your shoulders, their body close to yours, their smell sickly sweet and musky, like plant matter, like rot.

Watching intently, noticing that you weren't moving back or trying to pull away, Lawrence continued to gently brush the hair back from your face, a small smile coming across their pretty features as they admired you, their head tilting to the side, just a touch. You noticed that they were still being very careful not to move too near to you, though now that you thought about it...

You couldn't help but notice just how close together you were sitting together, their knee gently rubbing against yours as their touch drifted upwards, their bony knuckle grazing your flushed cheek.

"Is this okay?" Lawrence asked, still keeping their voice as steady and gentle as they could, despite how much they were shaking, like they were scared of scaring you, scared of breaking you.

"Yeah," You murmured softly as their fingers grazed your neck and pressed into your hair, cupping against your scalp, making you gulp and your wrists flex and tremble where they were bound to the chair. "It's okay."

They let out a soft hum of pleasure as you raised your chin, just a little, letting them continue the gentle petting through your hair. 

"Your hair is so soft," Lawrence mumbled softly, their doe eyes softening just a touch as they watched the way you keened into their touch, your fingers relaxing at the arms of the chair, despite how tight the tape was still binding you. "And...so pretty. Just like you are."

You blinked curiously up at them as they placed their other hand on your knee, leaning into your space even more, their cold, stubble-dotted cheek inches from yours. Yet, they were leaning into you in such a way that suggested that they were rubbing against you, scenting you like an animal.

"You're beautiful," They murmured even quieter, their fingers drifting higher up your knee, running over the ladders in your tights and to the warmth of your inner thigh. "And...so good for me. So good, letting me touch you, not being scared of me, not making any noise..."

You couldn't hold back a tiny whimper as their knuckle grazed the hem of your skirt, still stroking your hair. 

You weren't sure what Lawrence's intentions were just yet, but even though you had a sense that they weren't dangerous intentions, you still had a feeling that they might have been a little...unstable.

You thought it best to play along, while you still had the option to.

"Thank you for being so good," They continued, their voice still hushed as they pressed a little closer, running the bridge of their nose over your jaw, chapped lips running along your neck. "You've made this so, so much easier for me..."

You nodded a little hesitantly, biting your lip and keeping quiet while your eyes flitted down to their hand drifting further and further up your thigh, the duct tape wrapped tightly around your wrists.

You were still their prisoner, however well you were behaving.

Humiliation (Strade/MC)

“Come on now, moan for me. Moan for Daddy~”

With just one word, you were yanked forcefully out of your haze of masochistic submission, your eyes wide and your expression as close to disgust as you could manage.

"Did you just-" You muttered, your brows furrowing as you stared up at him. "Oh my god, you cannot be serious," You said with a grimace, cringing more from his words than what he was actually doing to your body. 

"Ahh, I can't resist," He said with a bright laugh, a shrug of his shoulders as he raised the knife from your thigh for just a moment, a faint cut left behind on your skin, barely even bleeding yet. Almost nothing compared to what you were usually used to. "You just look so uncomfortable when I say it. It's adorable, really!" He grinned again. "You really shouldn't be so reactive, fräulein , it makes you soooo easy to tease and wind up."

You said nothing, but continued to frown as he teased you.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” He then said, pulling the knife entirely from your leg and idly tapping it against his stubbly chin. “How about…you call me ‘daddy’, like I asked you to…and I’ll let you out of the basement for the night? How does that sound to you?”

"That's...that's not fair," You mumbled softly, pulling tightly at your ropes and ducking your head down in mortified embarrassment, your face blazing bright red at the prospect of even saying the word, let alone- “You know I don’t like saying…saying that.”

"Come ooon, you have to play along!" He purred with a lecherous grin, running his tongue over his teeth as he leaned in close again, his crouching knee between your legs, dragging the blade of the knife over your scarred thigh, threatening, not cutting, not yet. "You know you want to. And I know I want to hear it."

"I'm not doing that!" You then said, loud enough that it made him flinch backward with surprise, your face bright red and angry despite how hazy your head was feeling from the humiliation at...such a demeaning demand from him. "That...has to be the worst thing you've asked me to do!"

"Oh, is it the worst? Are you sure?" He asked with a huffed-out little chuckle, still dragging the blade of the knife along your thigh, still threatening to cut. "I had no idea you were such a, ah," He paused for a moment, his eyes flitting upwards before a grin came to his face. "A prude! You certainly don't act one."

He let out another light chuckle from his nose as he angled the blade downwards and cut a shallow slice into your thigh, enough to bleed, enough to sting and scar. His golden eyes watched intently as you took in a hiss through your gritted teeth, your bare toes curling against the cold cement floor and trying to pull back to your chest.

"No, I know that you're no prude," He continued, pressing closer, his forehead against yours as he dragged another cut into your skin, relishing in the way your body spasmed at the slight pain. "I know from the way you squeal, the way you bite your lip when I hurt you, like you're not gagging for it." 

He laughed again, as his free hand reached up to cup your cheek, force your eyes together. You blushed even more, your lip trembling with a quiet whimper of shame as he leaned in closer to you, the knife at your thigh digging in even more, edging dangerously close to the hem of your panties.

"The way you want to scream and cry for more, but can't quite manage because of a ball gag or my cock in your mouth. It's all so adorable, liebling ." His voice dipped just a touch, deeper, authoritative, and tinged with lust. "But I think it's time we stop playing pretend, ja ?"

He slid the blade under the lace panel side of your panties, cutting through it easily (making you squeak even more when the blade nicked your skin) and revealing your cunt to the cool air of the basement.

"I know this is turning you on, as much as you hate to admit it." He leaned in even closer, until his warm breath was almost kissing your skin as he whispered in your ear, the tip of the blade folding aside the scraps of fabric and getting closer and closer to your core. "It's pretty cute to see you get so worked up about a word, liebling , but you know what I want to hear. So, spit it out."

The touch of the blade shifted again, its presence ever-threatening as you trembled helplessly beneath it, watching as it pressed against the ripening bud of your clit, sharp and dangerous.

"Don't make me ask you twice," He then said, after a long moment of heavy silence from you, pressing the tip of the blade down with a little more weight. "You know I'll do it."

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a drawn-out and exaggerated moan, almost pornographic, tipping your head back and pressing your thighs together (though you weren't stupid enough to buck up against the knife, like you tended to).

"Ahhhnn..." You continued to moan, biting your lip for just a moment before you peered back up at him. "D-Daddy..."

"Hm?~" Strade hummed with a playful smirk, placing his blood-stained fingers under your chin to tilt your head towards him and force your eyes together again. "What was that?"

"Daddy..." You said again.

A satisfied smile came to his face as he pressed in even more against you, his nose against your temple, as your legs parted again and he moved the blade down from your clit and over the dripping parting of your cunt. 

"Good girl," He murmured against your cheek, his smile splitting into a sharp grin. "Suuuch a good girl, liebling . There now, was that so hard?"

You felt your entire body tremble and your insides plunge at the sensation of shame, though you could tell that Strade didn't mind that so much as he reached back and cut through your bondage.

"I could get used to hearing that, I think. How about we head upstairs?"

Teratophilia (Strade/Ren)

The machete slid through the amputated limb with ease, flesh, muscle, and bone unable to withstand the sharpened blade. Dark, aged blood spilled out on either side of the greying flesh of the arm, covering the bench on which he worked with a viscous spray. 

Ren instantly jumped back from the bench, looking down at his (now blood-covered) sweatpants with a wounded look. 

"Jeez, that better not stain," He grumbled softly with a frown, reaching down to rub at the new splash of blood adorning the fabric, knowing that he shouldn't. "I just got these..."

He continued to pout about his stained sweatpants, letting out a deep huff from his nose as he hacked the limb into several neat pieces, tossing each one into a metal bucket at his side with a bloody splat, like it was second nature to him. 

Ren's ears twitched at the sound of a growl behind him, the shift of chains against the cement floor, responding to each bloody splat of flesh.

"I know, I know, it's not the best we can get," Ren said softly, the pout fading just a touch as he smiled to himself, hacking through the wrist of the limb with a heavy *thwack* of the machete. "I'll get something fresher for you soon, but we need to make do with what we have for now."

He glanced over his shoulder with another bright smile, his tail wagging.

"Come on, don't be grumpy with me," He said with another playful pout, leaning down to take the bucket in hand and pacing across the basement, his bare feet cool and claws clicking against the floor. "You always love feeding time! It might not be gourmet or anything, but it's still food, right?"

He reached in to take a slice of the cut meat and squatted down, holding it out like a peace offering.

"You know you want it. Come on~" He cooed softly, with a little tilt of his head, a teasing smile, his fangs pressed into his bottom lip. "Take it."

His ears twitched again at the sound of another low growl as the chain dragged across the floor a little louder, his smile growing wider and wider as a hulking monster inched itself out of the darkness and towards Ren.

Strade sniffed cautiously as he brought his grey body closer, as sluggish and as slow as an animal. When he caught a good whiff of the meat, he licked his yellow teeth with a pleased-sounding grunt and brought his drooling mouth, his spit thick and viscous due in part to his still rotting skull, down to eat from Ren's hand.

"There we go," Ren praised with a smile, reaching up with his other hand to pet through Strade's matted hair, barely even grimacing when he caught a snag between his claws and had to pull at it. "I knew you couldn't be grumpy for long. It tastes good, huh?"

Strade let out a soft murr as he took another hungry bite of the meat, either not noticing Ren's petting or not caring about it as he shifted closer, the heavy chain hanging from his shock collar and bolted to the wall of the basement, still dragging against the cement. 

"You know, I dreamed about this before. Me doing this to you." Ren mused softly to himself. "I started to pray for it." He smiled serenely as Strade finished the last bite of meat and tongued Ren's palm messily, lapping up blood and viscera from his fingers. He was instantly reminded of feeding time at a petting zoo when he was a kid. "I fantasised about it for years, having you like this. It's kind of silly that I managed it so easily." He let out a little yip of a laugh, his tail wagging behind him as he reached for another chunk of meat to feed the lumbering beast. 

"Now you're all mine, forever and ever. My own pet monster~"

Strade raised his head from Ren's palm with another cautious sniff, temporarily distracted as the younger man reached for another chunk of the bloody flesh, before his dead eyes darted down again to the blood covering Ren's sweatpants, recognizing it as the thing he had tasted before with just a whiff.

Ren couldn't even try to stop him before he was thrown to the floor of the basement, Strade's hulking body straining against the taut chain still bolted to the wall as he caged Ren down with his heavier body, his eyes suddenly alive and stomach-churningly familiar.

Ren let out a shrill scream as Strade brought his head down to tongue at the soaking blood on his sweatpants, his hands gripping the young man's calves with a crushing amount of pressure, pinning him down to the ground (as he had so many other time before) and stopping him from struggling. Although he had no voice to gloat about how easy Ren was to overpower, Ren still felt the same surge of shame and humiliation twist in his gut and make him sick.

He frantically reached for his jacket pocket where he kept the remote to Strade's collar and pressed his thumb down on the button, emitting a sharp electric shock that burned into his skin, though that did very little to stop the lumbering monster as he forcefully yanked the sweatpants down to expose Ren's living flesh.

"No, no, no, no, nononononono," Ren shrieked, his eyes wide and frightened as he kept pressing the button of the collar, taking in desperate breathes through his teeth as his sweatpants were thrown aside and Strade started to tongue and nip his scarred thighs, hoping to pierce the skin with his flat teeth and taste the gush of fresh, hot blood. "Stop it, stop it now!"

If Strade couldn't be reasoned with when he was alive, trying to reason with him when he was dead would have been impossible.

Though he made a face of discomfort at the consistently shocking collar, that didn't stop Strade as he sat up on his knees with another rough grunt, taking one of Ren's kicking legs in hand, and forcing his body to bend in two, exposing his ass and pressing his soft cock up against his belly. 

Ren whimpered again, biting his lip hard and trying not to cry out as the monster stared down at him, tilting his head as his free hand reached down and palmed the plush flesh of his ass roughly, trying to feel the difference between living and dead flesh, and see which he preferred. 

Which one he liked the taste of more.

The shock collar was doing absolutely nothing to stop Strade, but he kept pressing the button, just to do something, to make sure that he wasn't taking this helplessly and passively as he used to, when Strade was still alive.

"Nghhh..." Ren gritted his teeth as he then felt the monster's thumb linger over the blooming, pink bud of his asshole, seemingly gauging his flustered reaction with a curious look. 

Even in death, Strade's curious nature persisted, it seemed.

To his surprise, though, Strade didn't sink his teeth into his flesh, nor did he tear him open, from groin to sternum, in a knash of bone and a rip of torn flesh. 

Instead, he felt the slimy wetness of the monster's tongue streak over his pale perineum, luxuriously and indulgently slow, before it focused intently on the hot, tight ring of muscle that twitched and convulsed so deliciously before his dead eyes, underneath his drooling, slack tongue, practically begging to be penetrated and devoured. 

Ren had never felt this sensation before, in all of his years of being with Strade, and it made his entire body go tight and his kicking legs relent as he focused in on the wet drag of Strade's tongue over his asshole. 

"AH!" Ren moaned loudly, tipping his head back, his little body arching underneath Strade's as his legs trembled and tightened around the bigger body, a surge of pleasure shooting through him, making his very core throb and burn with desperate wanting. "Hah...nghhh..."

Strade growled lowly with pleasure against Ren's hole, before his rasping tongue pressed deeper and deeper into his core and he started to thoroughly devour the younger man with fast and furious pleasure, relishing in his taste, relishing in the thrashing, living body underneath him.

It was so much better than dead meat. At least, that was what Ren assumed.

"Ahhhnn..." Ren let out a pornographic moan as he squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his free leg around Strade's broad shoulders, pulling him into his body and feeling the contradictory warmth of his mouth and the cold of his body. His tone had become restlessly needy, and the volume behind each of his moans and whimpers had picked up steadily as he got more and more wound up, his cock twitching excitedly and leaking against his belly from the maddeningly slow stimulation. "S-Strade...nghh, please..."

He pressed his thumb down on the button of the remote again, feeling the rumbling from the collar against his ankle as Strade continued on through the shock, letting out another deep growl at the sensations that were gradually growing more pleasurable than not. 

As Strade kept going, his teeth grazed against the rim of Ren's sensitive ass in a way that should have been painful, might have been painful at some point, but it just made the younger man desperately excited for even more stimulation from his monstrous lover.

"So good~" Ren drawled with a giddy smile, biting his lip hard as his vision started to blur and haze, his head lost in his own delirious pleasure. "God, I should have been doing this from the start..."

Strade let out his own grunt of agreement as a viscous string of drool ran down Ren's perineum and sloped up his arched back, cold in the cool air of the basement and enough to make him shiver all the more. He took in another sharp gasp, his eyes shooting open again as the monster somehow pushed his tongue even deeper, tasting the young man like a meal about to be devoured, an autopsy specimen about to be examined. 

Each comparison, each erotic and gory depersonalization that rendered his body as nothing more than an object for the monster's desire and hunger, made Ren's cock throb painfully, exquisitely, thrumming with pleasure as his slit oozed streams of precum against his trembling belly

He was unable to stop himself from shaking, trembling, and spasming even more as electric jolts of tortuous bliss shot through his body and melted his brain into a mush of pleasure and desperate wanting.

"God, I'm gonna cuuuum," He whined desperately, his voice high-pitched and drawling, squeezing his eyes shut and letting himself fall. "Please, please, please, please, please-!"

Perhaps knowing that Ren was seconds from orgasm, Strade managed to shove his tongue inside what little space was available, gripping the young man's ankle tightly, almost painfully, and wrenching his little body upwards even more, forcing him practically vertical and pressed tightly against his devouring mouth.

Ren let out another shriek as he was pulled upwards, though that didn't stop him from spilling over, a splatter of cum coating his belly, his chest, and reaching as far as his chin. 

After a few short moments of hungry slurping from Strade, keeping the young body totally boneless and pliable in his grip, he eventually relented and let Ren's body drop back down to the ground, lowering his head as he did so to lap up the mess of cum from the young man's belly hungrily.

Ren let out an unsteady sigh, barely cognisant as he reached down to pet Strade's hair again, simply enjoying the soft warmth of his tongue on his body and relishing in the attention and aftercare that he would have never received from the man in life. 

A slight smile came to his trembling lips as he let his eyes flit shut.

Master and Slave (Fox/MC)

"NGH!"

You let out a shriek as you fell to the marble floor and dropped the tray you were holding with a loud clatter, spilling the contents of the water jug atop it and shattering the glasses that had been stacked alongside it. 

You couldn't hold back a small whimper as you climbed up onto your aching knees, looking down at the mess you had made with a whispered curse as you tried to get your bearings and clean yourself up before anyone had the chance to notice what you had done.

You were rarely given those kinds of chances though. 

"Oh dear," Your body went rigid when you heard Fox's voice behind you, an obvious degree of humour to his tone as you heard the soft *tap-tap* of his shoes against the marble floor. "Someone's a bit clumsy today, aren't they?" He teased with a cruel chuckle. "I do hope I haven't overworked you too much, darling, you did have an awful lot of tasks to do this morning, after all."

"N-No, Master," You stammered quietly, keeping your eyes locked down as you sat up on your knees and reached for the (now) empty jug, placing it back on the tray before picking up some of the bigger chunks of glass. "I'm sorry, I'll clean it all up right away."

"Mm, I should think so," He hummed, stepping closer to you and standing behind your bent body with a soft click of his tongue. "But that's no way to clean up glass, slave. You'll cut yourself if you're not careful."

"Right," You replied quickly with a little nod of your head (your cheeks totally flushed at the demeaning title), placing down the chunks of glass and moving to stand to your feet. "I'll go get...um, I'll go get a broom to sweep it up."

"No, no."

You suddenly felt the sole of his shoe press firmly against the small of your back, keeping your body pinned down and still against the ground. You immediately froze like a rabbit in the headlights as he did so, keeping still on your hands and knees, as he pressed a touch more weight into your body, enough to make your limbs shake.

"I didn't say stop." He continued, his amused tone turning authoritative and stern, albeit as light-hearted as he always was when he was in this kind of mood. "You've made your bed, so lie in it, slave. Clean up your mess."

You gulped nervously as you did your best to look back at him over your shoulder, gauging his seriousness. 

Seeing his narrowed, golden eyes was more than enough to tell you that he wasn't joking.

You quickly looked back at the mess you had made and took in an unsteady breath, before slowly sweeping the shards of broken glass up with your hands, angling them in such a way as to avoid being cut up.

Eventually, after a few passes with your palms and the pile on the tray growing bigger and bigger, Fox took his foot off your back and continued to watch as you worked. 

"There we go. Clean it up, like the good, little slave I know you are."

And though you didn't bother to look behind you and see those eyes again, you knew that he was certainly staring down at you like a lecher, especially when you were bent over like this, your (uniform) skirt hiked up around your ass and... revealing the demeaning underwear he made you wear around the apartment, pink and frilly and barely enough fabric to keep you covered up. 

You gnawed at your lip and pressed your thighs together as you cupped your palm again, sweeping it over a heap of the smaller glass shards. You barely even registered when a shard of glass predictably lodged itself in your finger, so lost in your own thoughts that you couldn't feel the pain, though when you felt it, you immediately dropped the handful you had with a squeak and a shiver.

"Ah, fuck..." You took a slow hiss through your teeth, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect the wound a little more closely. You reached up with your other hand to pluck the glass from your skin quickly, so you could get back to work. 

"Keep going," Fox then said firmly, standing forward again. "You're not stopping just because you got hurt."

"Fox-Master, I just-"

"Don't you dare argue back," He interrupted you, his voice a harsh snap, so uncharacteristic that it made you immediately shut up. "Keep going. Now."

You bit your lip even harder, enough that you wondered if you'd made yourself bleed, before you did as you were told, placing both hands back on the ground and sweeping up more of the smaller shards with your bare palms, without another word of argument. You did your best not to whimper as your skin was cut multiple times, shallow slices dragged along the lines of your palms, tiny glass crystals lodged in your fingers, minute flecks of dust settling in the wounds, dotting blood down your skin, your wrists, on the fine marble floor. 

Once he felt that you had done an adequate job at cleaning up (and saw that your hands were beginning to shake and twitch from the blood) Fox squatted down in front of you and grabbed your wrist hard. 

Before you could even whimper or register what he was doing, he brought his mouth down to where the glass was lodged into your skin and ran his tongue along the worst wound on your palm, coating it and tasting your blood with a hungry expression on his face. 

He did this a few times, listening to you whimper and watching you squirm at the sensation, before letting your hand drop as he licked his lips, running his tongue over his fangs indulgently.

"Don't ever forget your place, slave," He said finally, before standing to his feet and leaving you to it. 

"Finish cleaning."

Costume (Ren/MC)

The zip of the latex catsuit slid easily up the small of your back, the thin metal cool against your burning skin, sealing inch after inch of your skin as it climbed up the gentle slope of your spine and to the middle of your neck, where your head was tilted forward obediently.

Your breath was already short, but it grew more and more shallow as the plastic was pulled tighter and tighter around your trembling body. 

The suit was probably a size too small for you, so it hugged every one of your curves as tightly as it possibly could, your body straining beneath the tight, breathless fabric.

"There," Ren said triumphantly behind you with an unseen smile, as he did up the little clasp at the middle of your neck and slid a small padlock through it (making you flinch again), locking you up tight, before smoothing a reassuring hand down your back. You barely suppressed a shudder as he touched you. "I knew it would fit you if we tried hard enough."

"Hmph," You grunted softly in acknowledgment, resting your gloved hands in your lap, where you were obediently kneeling down for him. 

"Don't pout," He said with a chuckle, idly running his fingers through your hair and pushing it over your shoulders so he could press a kiss to the sliver of skin that the latex wasn't covering. "You look beautiful. Like you walked right out of one of my fantasies."

"The less said about your fantasies, the better." You murmured softly, but that didn't stop your cheeks from flushing even darker at the compliments, genuine and sweet, like Ren often was when he was trying to get something he wanted.

He didn't take offense to your vaguely insulting words, it seemed, by the way he laughed again and crawled around your body to face you, his tail wagging as he admired you even further, his golden eyes gleaming with excitement.

"God, just look at you," He said, his voice a low purr as he placed his hands on your thighs, taking yours gently in his and rubbing his fingers over your latex-clad palms, careful not to drag his claws over the delicate plastic material. "All wrapped up tight in plastic." His voice dipped down into an indulgent growl as he brought his face close to your neck and ran the bridge of his nose against your jaw. "Like a doll. So perfect for me."

You took in a sharp little gasp at that particular name, your face almost beet red as you jerked your chin upwards before he had the chance to see how flustered he was getting you. 

Your breath grew even more shallow and you squirmed uncomfortably in your costume, the latex shifting and creaking with every tremble.

"Your nipples are getting hard," He mused with a hot breath against your already heated skin, his tail still wagging as he took one hand from yours and brought it up to the soft heft of your compressed chest under the tight plastic. "It looks pretty slutty, actually." He laughed again, running the pad of his thumb over the little bump, smiling at the way you twitched. "Pressing right up against the latex. Like you really are a fetish doll or something. A pretty little object made just for me."

"Mm...Ren," You whined softly, pressing your hands against his chest, your jaw trembling as he scented you, his sharp little fangs nipping at your neck and claiming what little skin he could with bruises. You knew that he was saying this for the sole purpose of teasing you even more, getting you wound up and hot, and...well, desperate for him. 

"Aw, but you're all sealed away," He giggled softly, raising his head to nip at your earlobe, nestling into your hair as he groped you a little harder, still teasing your nipples. "I can't fuck you like this, can I? And I guess I never will if I lose the key to this." 

He poked at the padlock behind your neck, making you flinch again.

"Don't tease me," You said with another little pout, biting your lip as his touch returned to your thigh and drifted up a little higher, against the plastic 'sealing' your cunt, for lack of a better word. 

"Mm, I think I will tease you, actually." He replied, pulling back and giving you a mocking smile. "It's too fun, not to. You're just so reactive~" 

It was a little unfair that he could play with you this easily.

Though you guessed that he was doing that on purpose. Just so you would begin to believe that you really were his toy.

His doll.

Orgasm Denial (Strade/MC)

"AH-AH-AH!"

You shrieked in time with each of Strade's hard thrusts, as he dragged your limp body down onto his cock, his full hips slamming against your backside rhythmically like a machine. 

He had been teasing and taunting you for what felt like hours, keeping two thick fingers inside of you, while he had you pinned in his lap and watched through one of the streams that you had edited for him ('earning your keep', he had called it when he first set you to the task), until you were so wound up and desperate that you were grinding against his thigh with whimpering little pleas, your wet cunt leaving a streak of damp in its wake. 

Eventually, after he was satisfied with your work, he took his hard cock from his slacks and pressed deep inside of you, first forcing your body to bend over his desk, your loose shorts long pushed aside, before pulling your hips back against his lap, stretching you out and filling you even deeper.

You breathed hard, your teeth grit and your eyes squeezed shut as he did so, your knees and hips already aching from the difficult, strenuous positions he was forcing you into, but you were so desperate to feel something, so desperate to cum that you didn't even care about your discomfort, as long as you got something, anything.

"I can feel your pussy clinging to me," He murmured through a hungry growl, his half-lidded eyes boring a hole into the back of your skull as he pushed you back against the desk and raised his hips, running the weeping head of his cock against your hole, listening to your pants and whimpers. "Like a fucking vice. You're close, aren't you, fraulein ?"

"Mmhmm," You nodded with a little squeak, suppressing a whimper as he kept dragging the tip of his cock over your clit and along the slit of your dripping cunt.

You didn't even think to lie to him. You couldn't think of those things anymore, you were that loyal to him now. 

"Mmm?" He hummed softly, letting his cock rest at the opening of your gasping hole as he reached up and wound your long hair around his palm. "You're gonna cum on my cock like the little slut you are, huh? You're just that fucking easy, aren't you, baby?"

"Yessss, I'm easy," You whined loudly, letting your head droop down for just a moment before you let out a yelp as he yanked your head back, digging his grubby nails into your scalp as he held your body upright. "AH! Yes, yes, I'm gonna-!"

"No, you're not," He then said, his voice quiet as he pressed his lips to your burning cheek, sliding his cock back inside you (with a disgustingly wet schlick ) and slowing down his thrusts to an even pace of shallow hip juts that barely kept you satisfied but left you hungry, starving, for even more. "You're not going to cum at all, actually."

"H-Huh?" You squeaked as he reached down in front of you with his free hand and started to rub your clit a little erratically. 

And he *never* did that.

"You heard me, dummkopf ," He replied, his voice an eager growl as he pressed deeper and deeper inside of you, entirely penetrating you like you were nothing more than a sex toy, a fuck doll in his lap, making you shriek and gasp. He hooked his stubbly chin over your shoulder and growled his next words into your neck in between bites and teasing kisses. "You're not going to cum. And if you do cum, we might have to recreate one of those scenes you edited for me."

He idly nodded toward the video that was still playing on his computer screen, and you were smart enough to know exactly what he was threatening you with. 

"Is that clear?" He purred, giving you a moment before he slapped your cunt with another rough yank of your hair. "I said, is that clear?"

"AH-! Y-Yes, it's clear!" You yelped, gritting your teeth as a tear ran down your cheek.

All the while he kept fucking you, occasionally slipping his cock out from inside you and thrusting the tip against your engorged clit (that he was still fucking rubbing) to make you squeak and shudder, your body spasming from the sudden stimulation.

It was heavenly, in the very worst possible way. As he pushed deeper inside of you and rubbed your clit, stimulating every one of your vulnerable spots, what felt like little jolts of electricity shot through your body and kept you constantly on edge, making every single nerve spark up with radiating white heat, just from the attention he was paying to you.

It felt good, so fucking good, that it was painful. 

You couldn’t and didn't try to stop the spasms or the shakes wracking your body, nor did you stop your soft whimpering from the white-hot pain that you didn’t want to ever, ever stop. 

You sort of hoped that he was misinterpreting this whole situation, hoped that he thought you hated this particular brand of torture when really, you fucking adored it, just so that he would use it against you a little more often.

You didn't have much of an opportunity to keep that secret to yourself though, before he suddenly pulled you back, forced your body into his lap again, pressing deep, *deep* inside of you and making you spill over involuntarily, covering his lap with your cum and shrieking out loud as you did so.

"Hah," He let out a short sigh of exertion as your body went slack against his desk again before he let out a bark of a laugh, flicking his hair from his face. "Ha! You really are dumb, aren't you? I thought we were clear , fraulein ."

You trembled just a touch as you tried to squirm away from him but he kept two strong hands bracketed to your hips quickly, keeping you pinned still.

"Well, well...looks like we're due for another show of our own, aren't we?~"

Threesome (Strade/MC/Ren)

"You know...I don't normally like sharing."

"Hm?"

You looked up towards your companion as the two of you worked through a pile of his laundry together, unpacking the heaving basket (he really did go through all of his clothes so quickly) and sorting through and folding up t-shirts, shorts and underwear for him to put away.

In the months of knowing Ren, you had grown fond of him. 

Maybe it was because he was a total nerd like you were, who liked the same things you did and was always happy to talk about movies or music with you while you did your daily chores, or it might have been the necessary comradery you both needed to survive, well...a place like this. 

There was something about Ren that was different from other nerdy boys you once knew, something that set him apart from a stereotypical captive of a sociopathic sadist, and you knew that from the first moment you met him.

You knew he was fucked up, in the same ways you were. 

You knew there were parts of Ren that had struggled in the same ways that you had, had struggled with darkness and being too difficult to love. Maybe he'd even had his own slew of college girlfriends (or maybe boyfriends) that had been unable to fix him, despite how much he had tried to be fixed. 

And even though the first few months had been difficult, clouded with his obvious jealousy and fear of being replaced in the eyes of his master, and your own sheer desperation to just survive until the next day, you had grown closer.

You had a routine of sorts now. You did his laundry, he cooked meatless meals for you. You showed him a game you liked and he looked up good horror anime to watch together.

It felt good to have a friend in here, someone to share all of this with, and someone who didn't think you were a freak for the slowly developing feelings you were having for the man responsible for all of this loneliness. 

"Yeah. I'm kind of the jealous type." Ren admits with a shy smile, folding one of his shirts into a neat little square, his hands trembling just a touch as your own idled over the task at hand. "I mean, I'm sure you probably could have guessed that..."

"Right," You replied with a guilty smile, glancing down. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

"But um...I do think I could get used to it...w-with you, I mean." His smile broke into a little, if slightly unsure, grin, a soft chuckle falling from his lips as his golden eyes met yours, sparkling with something you hadn't felt in months; hope. "It might actually be kinda nice to share all of this with someone else. Someone who understands."

You gulped, almost a little nervous as you felt a bit of a flush come to your cheeks, your lip trembling as you looked him up and down, as he occupied himself again with folding his laundry.

Not wanting Ren to see your watering eyes or your trembling jaw, you quickly crossed to his side of the desk, wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug, as tight as you could manage without hurting him. You buried your face against his shoulder with an unsteady breath and enveloped yourself in his soft, comforting warmth, his scent of fur and clean hair and vanilla, and allowed your silent tears of sympathy and understanding to fall down your cheeks and hopefully soak into his shit. 

And though he was shocked into stillness for a few moments (perhaps due to the sudden act of affection without any bad intentions or malice behind it, something he was not at all used to), he eventually wound his arms around your middle and squeezed you back tightly, his twitching tail curling around your bodies and tangling the two of you together even further. 

You thought, for just a moment, that he might have started crying with you, when you felt him bury his face against your shoulder and his body start to tremble and shake in your tight embrace, but neither of you wanted to pull away and let this perfect, peaceful moment be ruined.

But, when Ren eventually did pull away with a subtle sniff, his ears twitching forward, he surprised you by pressing a firm kiss against your mouth, quickly and sweetly, like he was a little kid giving his crush their very first kiss.

You too pulled back, your eyes wide open and your lips parted with surprise. 

"A-Ah," Ren let out a little breath, his own eyes wide and his ears perched up high. ""I'm sorry! I-I thought that I could..." He gulped nervously before he bashfully looked down at the carpeted floor, his ears flattening down on the top of his head (meaning he was embarrassed or ashamed). "I thought that maybe you'd want to as well, cus, we were hugging, but, ah-" His tail straightened out nervously and moved stiffly behind him. "I'm sorry..."

"No," You murmured softly, letting your arms drop down from around his shoulders as you took his hands in yours, holding them tight, squeezing them reassuringly. "No, it's okay, Ren. It's okay."

He shivered a little, looking back at you as his ears tilted back up.

"You mean it?" He asked, digging one of his fangs into his bottom lip, gnawing on it as his worried expression faded, little by little. "It's okay?"

"It's okay," You smiled encouragingly, rubbing your thumbs over his palms, letting out a little sigh as the flush on your cheeks burned a little darker. "It's really okay, I promise."

"So," He continued as he held your hands back, his golden eyes shining that much brighter as a slight smile came to his sweet face. "Can I...can I kiss you again?"

You swallowed nervously, your eyes flitting downwards and your hands shaking a little as he ran his claws over your knuckles, grazing them like needle points very gently before you nodded your head.

You didn't know if Strade would take issue with the two of you doing, well, any of this, but you couldn't care less about what he would take issue with at that moment.

"Yeah...yeah, you can kiss me again." You replied with another nod. "You can kiss me."

The second kiss came much more easily than the first, as did the third, as did the fourth, as did the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh. His mouth was warm and wet against yours, tasting as sweet and as familiar as his scent, as he tore his fingers away from your hands and reached up to press them in your hair, and when you parted your lips against his, pressing closer to him, he pressed his tongue into your mouth, as slow and as smooth as lava.

Between each kiss and as he pressed closer to you, his tail wagging frantically behind him, you managed to pull away for enough time to yank off your shirt and sports bra and fling them both to the other side of the room, exposing your bare chest for him to see. Even in the comforting warmth of Ren's bedroom, the safe haven from the rest of the house, your newly pierced nipples were perky and pink with arousal. 

Ren stared at you like a man starved, his eyes wide and his face flushed. 

It made you feel desired. You didn't realise how much you had missed that feeling, without it being associated with a particularly violent subtextual meaning. 

You felt oddly demure as you led him to the other side of his desk and fell back into the pile of clothes, cushions, and fabric scraps that made up his nest of a bed, an eager smile spreading on your lips as Ren quickly pulled off his own shirt too and threw it aside with yours, kneeling over you as he did so.

His chest was covered in scars, much like the rest of him, and though the majority of his body appeared slight, lean, and slender, there was a softness to his stomach that you couldn't help but find utterly adorable.

"You're so beautiful..." He said, his voice soft and his tone oozing with sincerity, as he loomed over you, his small body caging your own with ease as his hungry eyes continued to stare. "C-Can I...please, can I-"

"You can do whatever you want." 

With your permission granted, he immediately dipped his head to kiss your neck, paying close attention to the bruises and mocking love bites that peppered the more sensitive areas, the hollow of your throat, the skin beneath your jaw, your collarbones, mean little reminders of ownership left by his…your master. 

Your back arched with each kiss and wet streak of spit from his tongue, pressing your chest against his, and you couldn't help the long, keening moan of pleasure that spilled from your lips as he grazed his sharp, needle-point teeth against the sensitive juncture between your neck and your shoulder. 

If he wanted to bite you, really bite you and dig his teeth in and make you bleed, you'd let him, you think. 

Strade had made his mark on you a number of times already, so it was probably fair that Ren got his chance as well.

You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, curling them into a weak fist, and tugged his head downwards in a silent instruction for him to pay some attention to your chest. The whimper he let out, the keening mewl that lurched its way out of the very back of his throat, sparked a fire deep inside of your core, and you threw an arm over your face to hide just how much you were blushing, as he pressed an insistent kiss to each shuddering breast.

"You're...you're so good for me..." Ren whispered against your skin, his voice low and husky, and when he caught your barely masked gaze with his own, his eyes were half-lidded and filled with desperate, urgent need, a dreamy smile on his face. "So loud and receptive and...god, I want you so bad."

He dragged his tongue up your breast and latched his sharp teeth onto your nipple, his ears tilting back at the sound of your high moans as he sucked the swollen little nub gently and dragged the bulge of his erect cock against the growing wet patch of your shorts.

“Ahhn…” You groaned, your head swimming from the pleasure, as he dug one of his fangs into your nipple teasingly, reaching up to unbutton and unzip his jeans and shift them down his hips, taking away another barrier between the two of you and letting you feel the heat and warmth of his cock through the thin layer of his cotton boxers. “R-Ren…nghh, please…”

"Well, well, well, now isn't this a surprise?"

When the two of you heard Strade's voice, your instant reaction was to get away from each other, both of your bodies shooting backward like magnets repelling. Your face burned red with embarrassment at being so exposed as you wiped a thin stream of drool from your lips and covered your breasts with your arm, all while Ren attempted to readjust himself, pulling up his jeans to make his obvious erection a little less obvious.

Strade didn’t appear too bothered by the state of you though, as he loomed in the bedroom door casually, idly tossing and catching a ruby red apple up and down, up and down, rhythmically. 

If anything, he appeared to be somewhat pleased to find the both of you in such a compromising position, a slow grin coming to his face and his eyebrows raised, like he had found something particularly interesting.

"Strade!" Ren managed to squeak, his shaking hands still trembling and struggling to button up his jeans. "I-It isn't what it looks like, I swear, we weren't doing anything-"

"Now, now, little fox." Strade interrupted, his voice low but undeniably teasing and amused. "I'm not mad. I'm actually kind of impressed." He stopped catching the apple and raised it to his lips, taking a swift bite and smiling as he chewed, his teeth wet. "I didn't think you had it in you! Masel tov!"

A furious blush came to Ren's face as he looked away, clearly uncomfortable and maybe even a little bit frightened by Strade's sudden presence in his room, the deliberate invasion of his safe haven away from the older man. Strade appeared to be ignorant of this, that or he didn’t care enough to notice, as he continued to chew open-mouthed on his apple, still staring the two of you down.

"Well, come on now. By all means, don't stop on my account." He said, making both of you look up at him with wide, frightened eyes, as his own softened with poorly concealed lust. "I wanna see where this goes."

"You...you can't be serious," Ren mumbled softly, his quiet tone taking on a grave quality, his thin brows furrowed in concern under his bangs and his tail standing stiff with fear, his eyes meeting your own with an expression of concern and undeniable care.

"Ah, you’re misunderstanding me. I see." Strade replied with a short laugh as he casually sauntered into Ren’s bedroom, placing the half-eaten apple core on his desk before leaning against it, his hands behind his back, his feet crossed over the top of each other. 

Ever casual, never one to reveal anything. 

“That wasn’t a question. I’m telling you. Keep going. ”

"S-Strade..." Ren mumbled softly, tearing his eyes away from yours and looking back towards your captor. "Come on, we weren't...doing anything."

"Mm, of course, of course." Strade hummed, running his tongue over his teeth as he casually reached down to the pocket of his slacks. "So, our dear, sweet fraulein here just...sits around with their top off all the time, hm? How unlucky of me to have never caught that!" He laughed as he pulled out a leather holster, revealing it to you from his pocket, and yanked his well-used bowie knife from it, sharp silver shining in the low light of Ren's bedroom. "Don't make me ask twice, Ren. You of all people know what happens when I do that."

You could feel your heart beating at the very back of your throat as you heard Strade's words, a reaction that you knew Ren must have been feeling too, by the way his body stiffened, his Adam's apple bobbing against his frail throat.

"W-What do you want me to do?" Ren stammered softly, his eyes flitting down bashfully, his expression that of fear and unspoken obedience .

"Touch them like you were," Strade said curtly, though with a look of eminent satisfaction on his face, pointing the knife towards you, threatening you. "Take them. Fuck them, and fuck them hard . That’s what I want you to do, fuchs. "

Ren's eyes widened again at the sudden direction of the knife, his ears flattening again at the mean petname, and his eyes went back to you, just as frightened as you were. 

He gulped hard again and took a few steps closer to you, looking down at you with an expression of guilt and concern, because at least he had the decency to feel that, if anything, gnawing his lip as he knelt down over you again and took your chin in hand, his delicate little claws digging into your cheek and jaw. 

You knew that Ren wouldn't have had a chance in Hell at standing up to Strade if he tried, you knew that and you didn’t want him to get hurt defending you, but you couldn't help but feel a twist of betrayal in your gut at his complete lack of opposition to him, that he was doing as he was told without even the slightest argument. 

"Just...pretend it's us, okay?" Ren said quietly, his tone earnest and protective, obviously trying to make the most of the situation as a nervous smile came to his face. "Like we were before, yeah? When it felt good."

"Mm," You let out a muffled grunt as he shifted back on top of you, his hand back on your breast, his cock (slightly soft but not nearly as much as it should have been) pressing back against the warm spot in your shorts.

Ren kept looking at you intently, gauging your reaction as he tried to resume the pace that you had been going at before, teasing a nipple as he rubbed his cock up against your clothed cunt, and though it felt good, because of course it felt good, you couldn't stop your stomach from churning tight little knots at the reminder of who was watching, who was judging the two of you and seeing how well you could perform for him. 

"Ah," Ren let out a little groan, reaching back down to unbutton his jeans and shift them down his thighs with his underwear before he pressed his cock against the gusset of your shorts, rubbing the weeping head against the sodden fabric. 

Any hesitance he might have had wasn't stopping him, it seemed.

Maybe he had felt conflicted about it, conflicted in the ethics of enjoying a largely unresponsive body underneath his, but his enjoyment and evident arousal seemed to have been winning against his quickly depleting morals. 

"You're taking your sweet time, fuchs ," Strade commented dryly behind the two of you, picking dirt from his nails with the tip of his knife, his voice loud enough to make Ren flinch and his rutting hips stutter. "Show me something I want to see or I'm going to get impatient." 

“R-Right, yes, I’ll try.” Ren stammered, his sweet face blushing bright red as he brought both hands to your hips and pulled at the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down quickly, forcefully, his claws grazing the soft skin of your thighs and leaving behind shallow marks in your skin. He took a deep breath and then nodded a bit, like he was trying to amp himself up, more than anything else, before speaking quietly yet again with a soft and concerned gaze toward you. “S-Sorry if this is…ya know, uncomfortable…”

You barely managed a flat glare in his direction before he was pushing himself inside of you roughly, your cunt nowhere near wet enough to support an easy entry as he pressed up, right to the very base of his cock, where his knot was beginning to swell. You shrieked shrilly and clung tight to his smaller body, digging your nails into his back and making him bite back a whimper, as his cock slid out of you and his hips jerked backward at the pain.

Funny. You would have imagined he'd have a greater pain tolerance by now.

He bit his lip with an annoyed (almost panicked) little grunt, reaching down to the base of his cock and jerking his fist up and down it a few times, to get himself hard and ready to push back inside of you. 

"Can't keep it up, Ren?" Strade then asked with a mean chuckle, slamming the knife down into the wood of the desk and standing behind him, looming and lecherous as Ren kept trying to keep himself hard, muttering out little excuses, protests, ‘please, just give me a second’s. "Well, you know what they say...don't send a boy to do a man's job, eh, fraulein ?"

He pet the space between Ren's ears condescendingly before he made eye contact with you, raising an eyebrow as his honey-deep eyes narrowed a touch. 

"Come here, baby."

Biting your lip and shooting an apologetic look toward Ren as you do so, you obediently crawl out from underneath him and over to Strade's side, humiliation and shame making you shiver as the two men watch every move ardently. 

A slow, satisfied smile came to Strade's face when you knelt at his side, and when he stroked your hair, sweet and cloying and nothing he’d really do to you in a thousand years, you instantly keened into his touch with a pleased sigh, kneeling up even further to chase the touch when he pulled back for a moment.  

He let out a soft laugh from the back of his throat as he kept stroking through your hair, like you were a pet in his lap. 

The comparison, you thought, was quite apt at that moment.

He knew he had you in the palm of his hand, and what was worse, he knew that he could do anything to you just as long as he followed it with these moments of quiet kindness. 

All the while, Ren was watching intently, his gaze growing heated and..even a little jealous. 

It was an expression that you were familiar with.

"Hm…I’m really sorry to break this to you, buddy" Strade started, his gaze going back towards Ren, his voice domineering and demanding of all attention in the quiet room, as he pushed a hand through your hair and pulled your head forward to press against the quickly stiffening bulge in his trousers. "But your little playmate here is already a nasty little whore. Isn't that right, liebling ?"

Unable to truly answer with words, you pressed your face against his crotch, gripping his trouser leg in a desperate attempt to ground yourself when you were feeling so dazed, and took a long breath of him, enveloping yourself in his warmth, his scent.

Much like Ren’s attempt to ignore his animal impulses, the urge to fight back was weaning, quickly, as you let yourself be used by him. 

"Is someone getting jealous?" Strade asked with a teasing lilt to his voice, his smirk broadening as his eyes went up to meet Ren's heated gaze, as he twisted his fingers in your hair and kept you pinned against his broad thigh, unzipping his slacks with his other hand and palming himself, despite keeping you so still. “You can tell me, Ren…”

Ren's eyes stayed locked on Strade’s, his cheeks flushing a little as his eyes flitted down to the ground. The younger man was silent for a moment, not knowing how to respond before he said something.

"M-Maybe..." Ren stammered in a quiet voice, a slight pout to his full lips.

"Aw, how sweet~" The older man crooned as his smirk shifted into a grin. "Jealous of who, I wonder?"

Ren gulped tightly, looking more and more embarrassed as he averted his eyes, his tail swishing behind him.

“You know who,” He replied, his voice almost curt, despite how much he was blushing. 

"Ah, do I?" Strade hummed thoughftully as he tilted his head, letting out a little sigh through his teeth as he tugged his cock from his underwear and slowly jerked it, in front of your waiting eyes. "How about you tell me, fuchs ? How about you tell me with your words? It’s unlike you to be so quiet, so shy…"

Ren barely resisted a little whimper at the back of his throat, his hands balling into fists at his sides, watching the two of you intently as Strade jerked himself off, as you pressed yourself even closer to his cock, inhaling his scent.

He looked almost angry, angry about how jealous he was.

Perhaps angry that Strade always managed to wind him up like this. Always managed to get what he wanted, no matter what that might have been. 

"I- I'm jealous of you touching her..." Ren replied quietly and with a bit more embarrassment clear to his tone, his little body practically shaking with shame. “I’m jealous that you can take her so easily…and I’m jealous that you’re taking her and not me.”

Strade let out a condescending 'tut' with his tongue, before he leaned back against the desk, keeping your head pinned to his thigh as the grip around his cock tightened, just a touch, enough to make the vein next to his knuckles stand up, his eyes ever indulgent as they glanced from you and back towards Ren.

"Nothing's stopping you from joining your little friend on your knees, sweetheart," He crooned, obviously appealing to a softer part of Ren, a needier part of him that yearned for Strade, as much as you did. "Go ahead, if you're so jealous."

Your eyes shot back to see how the younger man would respond to such an invitation. Predictably, Ren blushed heavily, his ears upright and erect, his tail still, his cock hard, evidently not realizing how badly he had wanted to do exactly what Strade was telling him to do. 

"Can I...?  I really want to..." Ren mumbled quietly and in a pleading tone, feeling like he wanted nothing more than to be in the same position as you, serving his master, worsipping him.

“Get down,” Strade growled softly, his eyes dark and starving when you looked up at him and his whole expression victorious, like he had won the best possible prize at the fair. “On your knees.”

Ren sank down to his knees obediently, without even a word  and crawled over to the both of you, perching himself next to you, his naked thigh pressing to yours, his frantically wagging tail carressing your back.

In the end, the two of you did grow closer…just like you had wanted to.

Shotgunning (Lawrence/MC)

"Can I try some?"

Your voice was quiet in the heavy, moisture-dense air of the apartment, in the quiet of the city waiting outside the wide windows, as you sat up on the bed and moved a little closer to Lawrence, who had just lit up a joint.

They had taken some time to prep it after settling cross-legged on the ground, grinding up a little nugget of weed and tobacco as you idly scrolled through your phone, your eyes occasionally shooting up to watch them as they rolled the rolling paper tightly and reached for the lighter from their bedside.

"Huh?"

They looked up towards you, lowering the joint after taking their first drag and exhaling the mouthful of smoke steadily. They blinked curious grey eyes and ran their tongue over their chapped bottom lip, taking a moment to compose themselves.

"Can you try some...what? The joint?” They blinked again, before they nodded their head, shaking a heavy chunk of blonde hair across their shoulder. “Um…y-yeah, sure you can..."

They held the joint up towards you, sitting up on the knees to be closer.

You set your phone down and scooted up on their bed, throwing your legs over the side before taking the joint in hand and inspecting it closely. 

"I've, er…I’ve never tried it before, actually." You said softly, looking from the joint and towards them again. "Can you show me how?"

A light smile came to their pretty face as they let out a low chuckle, pushing their hair back behind their ear in a practiced, delicate gesture.

"Sure..." They said with a nod before they took the joint back from you. "So you gotta take a drag on it...like this,"

You watched intently as they raised it back to their lips and took a long drag on it, an indulgent look of thoughtless sleepiness on their face, which you enjoyed…maybe a little more than you should. They held the smoke on their tongue for a moment, before taking a long inhale through their nose and then exhaling, breathing out the smoke slowly.

When they breathed out, the smoke streaming from their lips and nostrils looked like worms, like tendrils, like vines, thin and white. You didn't even try shaking off that intrusive though

"Then you exhale like that. Don't try to hold it in for too long or you'll cough like crazy." They then said with another little smile, holding the joint back out to you. “Try it.”

You huffed through your nose and rolled your eyes at their instructions, feeling condescended to despite Lawrence’s sincerity, and took the joint again, raising it to your lips and taking in a slow drag. 

Lawrence watched as intently as you had as you took a second drag on the joint and held your breath, holding the smoke on your tongue, thick and smokey.

"Yeah...that's it.” They praised, tilting their head slightly. “Just take it in slowly, don't let it catch you off-guard." Their smile broke into a slight grin. "You're doing it right though. So, so far so good..."

Your brain felt like it was slowing down, bit by bit, as you held the smoke on your tongue for a moment longer, before you took in a breath, a quick inhale, too quick to let the smoke permeate your thoughts properly, and when you tried to exhale outwards steadily, as they had, your breath caught roughly in your throat and made you cough. 

Lawrence started laughing, something you had never seen them really do, but tried to suppress it with a fist raised to their lips. It was nice, even kind of sweet, but you couldn’t really pay attention to the gesture when you were still coughing.

"Aah, ah, you're getting it…” They said through quiet chuckles, sitting up from the floor to rub your back. “Well, you were getting it...it’s okay, you’re okay…"

"I don’t like weed," You groaned as you held the joint out back to them. “Or smoking, or anything. I don’t want anything in my lungs but air now, actually.”

Lawrence laughed again, taking back the joint as they kept rubbing your back, as your coughing settled down into slow breaths.  

"Mm…ah, there is a technique that you might enjoy a little more." They murmured softly, as the hand on your back slid upwards, up towards the very top of your spine, gently stroking the sharp notch of the bone. “Do you wanna try it with me?”

“Alright,” You replied, keening up a little into the touch, as Lawrence got closer to you on the bed, their bare thigh pressing against yours, knees knocking together. “Why not?” 

Their hand trembled a little, long fingers twitching, as they held the burning joint back up to their own lips, taking in a longer exhale than they had before, their grey eyes flitting shut with the pleasurable sensation of numbness that followed with it. 

They let their hand relax against your thigh then, the glowing ember of the joint warm against your skin, as they inhaled sharply and peered back towards you, and brought their face closer to yours, close enough to kiss, close enough that you could smell the heavy scent of weed on their breath, on top of the plant matter and soil that clung to them. 

"Now...inhale as I exhale...slow...steady."

When they exhaled the mouthful of smoke against your lips, you took in a shaking little inhale, feeling both the smoke and the warmth of Lawrence’s breath on your skin and tasting the haze of the weed on your tongue.  

“That's good...that's very good," Lawrence praised very softly, watching as you took in more of the smoke, rubbing your thigh encouragingly. “Taste it. Taste the smoke on your tongue.”

It was difficult to focus on what they were saying, exactly, as you felt their warm breath against your lips, their big hand on your thigh rubbing against your skin. 

This felt better than taking the joint normally, that was all you knew.

They moved forward slightly, their body leaning toward yours, sitting thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder. 

"That...feels nice," You mumbled softly as you exhaled finally, your head swimming nicely through the haze of weed, the haze of suddenly burgeoning arousal. “Mm…yeah. Maybe I get it now.” You then said with a little chuckle, peering towards Lawrence when you felt the muscles in their thigh tense up a little, felt them shiver.

Without a word, Lawrence leaned in further, their mouth hovering over yours again, but the hand on your thigh didn’t move. You felt their breath on your lips again. Their fingers were trembling ever so slightly as they keened parted lips against yours, inhaling your own scent as they did so.

"Law..." You mumbled softly, your cheeks flushing a little darker as the hand rubbing your spine spanned forward against your cheek, cupping it so gently.

"Kiss me." They then whispered against your lips, their breath warm and hot and alive in a way they so often weren't . 

You couldn't think of any reason not to.

You leaned in and kissed them softly, tasting the smokey sweetness on their lips as your tongue pressed forward and parted them, letting you deepen the kiss and properly enjoy the comforting warmth of their mouth.

The two of you tumbled back against the bed, making out hungrily like a pair of doped-up teenagers.

You didn't even notice when the ember of the joint burnt the sensitive skin of your thigh.

Menophilia (Fox/MC)

You were in trouble .

Fox had caught you trying to signal the attention of a member of staff that had flitted to and from the apartment while he was working, and naturally assumed the worst of you. Not like you could really blame him. 

You were a hostage, for God's sake, who knew what you could have gotten up to when you were out of his sight?

That's why you were sitting in the living room, your (metaphorical) tail between your legs, waiting for the scolding of a lifetime.

"So...would you like to explain to me what you were doing trying to contact my staff?" Fox said, his tone almost grave as he closed the door of his office behind him and leaned against it. "I do hope you weren't planning an escape...after all I've done to train you so well, after everything that we’ve done? I should really be more insulted than I am, you know."

"I wasn't," You murmured softly, looking down at your lap with a shake of your head as he paced to your front, kneading your fingers against your thigh. "I wasn't planning to escape, that's...not what I was doing, I promise."

"Oh? What was it, then?" He asked with a raised brow, taking a step closer to you, taking your chin in his hand and raising it up to meet his eyes, his own cold. You made a little noise of discomfort when he took your face in hand, looking down at your flushed expression with a vague look of condescending sympathy. 

Better that than anger, you guessed.

"What were you planning, if not an...elaborate escape? A surprise party, maybe? Should I have my secretary write up an RSVP?" He finished with a forced chuckle, a little shrug of his shoulders.

"I just...I needed something that I didn't have," You replied, your words a little slurred as he squished your cheeks. 

"What could you possibly need that you don't already have?" He then asked, narrowing his eyes a touch, like he couldn't believe what you were saying. "You're provided everything in the world, the best possible luxuries, and yet, you still demand more? How insatiable of you, pet. You'll be wanting to go to the opera next!" 

Your cheeks flushed again as you tried to pull back from his firm grip, but it only encouraged him to pull you in even closer, digging his claws into the soft skin.

He took a moment to brush a thick lock of hair behind your ear to reveal your flushed face to his view, smirking lightly before it twitched for just a moment, as his nostrils flared and he finally took a good long whiff of you, and...worked out the reason you were trying to ask for things from his staff in almost an instant. 

Your face flushed bright red immediately when the expression of recognition slowly came to his face, trying to avert your gaze and hide just how embarrassed you were, as a slow and hungry smirk spread on his face.

"Sooo, that's what it is," The older man chuckled darkly, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement and mischief. "Someone forgot to take their birth control, didn't they? Haha, how cute! Now you're streaming like a fountain, aren't you?"

"Oh my god," You murmured, practically trembling from how mortified you were feeling, trying desperately to pull back from him.

"Aww..." He grinned a little wider, clicking his tongue in mock sympathy. "Did you think that I wouldn't work out your little secret?" He laughed again at your blushing and trembling. "Or were you hoping I wouldn't notice? I'm a fox, if you forgot, sweetheart," He leaned a little closer, his ears twitching and his tail wagging, seemingly emphasising his point even further. "I can smell it now, actually, now that it’s just the two of us..."

"Can you please just ask someone to get me some tampons or something...?" You mumbled, keeping your eyes locked down and waiting desperately to just be dismissed.

"And why would I do that, darling?" He laughed again and rubbed your chin as he watched your embarrassed and trembling reactions indulgently. "I mean I'm enjoying this very much, personally.”

"Fox..." You whimpered softly, biting your lip as your cheeks flushed even more. "Please...I don't ask you for anything."

"I'm not giving you anything either." He replied easily, finally letting go of your face to join you on the couch, slinging an arm around your trembling shoulders and watching you with a sharp grin. "Maybe if you let me enjoy what I want first, I'll think about providing you with what you need , hm?"

You didn't move your head, not wanting to look up and be an accomplice to your own degradation, but your eyes flitted upwards to see as he placed his free hand on your thigh, digging his claws in and gently, barely jerking it to the side to meet his own thigh, wordlessly telling you what he wanted, what he expected.

You didn't say a thing as you let your legs part, showing a soaking, red stain on your white underwear and the smear of blood covering your inner thighs.

His eyes widened as he looked down at the small stain, but the older man didn't resist an even wider grin as he grabbed your thigh even harder and yanked your body down against the couch, offering him the perfect opportunity to cage you down and stare at the mess between your legs. 

"Well, would you look at that?" He said, with a voice as close to awe as a bastard like Fox could manage. "And they have no one to blame but themselves for not asking me just a little bit sooner~ You really could have avoided all of this mess, sweetheart."

"You would have said no..." You murmured softly as he got closer to you, his nostrils flared and dragging your scent in, keeping your legs parted with a firm grip on your thigh.

"Of course, I would have said no, are you kidding?" He replied with a scoff. "I would have done it just to watch you squirm like this and see the look on your face. Priceless! It would have been just too cute for me to resist."

You let out an unsteady breath, almost a whimper, through your gritted teeth as he continued to stare down at you, taking in long breaths of your heavy scent like he was indulging in a delicious meal or a fine wine. After a few moments, he finally looked you in the eye, his own blown wide with hunger, running his tongue over his jaws.

"Do you want me to clean you up?" He asked, his voice almost a whisper, and leaned closer, his clawed finger running up the middle of the soaking gusset of your panties, where the blood was still soaking through.

"H-Huh?"

"I said..." The older man repeated himself, his voice taking a teasing undertone, as his expression got hungrier. "Do you want me to clean up your little mess, pet~?"

You didn't answer properly, not with your words, not trusting them enough not to give away how nervous and frightened you were. You took in another breath, still wet blood seepeing down your thigh and soaking into your panties. Despite everything telling you to do otherwise, though, you parted your legs further, showing him the mess of blood between your legs.

"Hah..." 

With a slow, drawn-out motion, his fingers shifted from your thighs and the soft folds of your pelvis, to the soaking creases of your underwear, gently pulling the wet fabric away from your sticky labia as he stared intently at the mess. A hungry grin painted his darkened features as he looked at it, his eyes hungry and inquisitive as he smeared the blood even further down your trembling thigh.

"It looks like you leaked quite a bit." He said softly, placing himself between your legs. "It must have been all day, right? All day...you leaked all day long and didn't even try to ask me for help..." He ran his tongue over his teeth again as he leaned in a little closer, his face inches from yours. "Now...how about we get you out of those dirty panties once and for all, and I can have a proper taste, hm?"

"T-Taste?" You said quickly, sitting up.

"Well, if you've been leaking all day, I do think it is only fair to taste what you've offered up." He replied with an easy smirk. 

You didn't have the chance to react before he was dipping his head and running his tongue over your hole, delving and devouring almost immediately as soon as he got the taste of your blood.

"Oh...ohhhh," You gasped, your once wide eyes sliding shut as you felt his lips trail against your labia, your clit, completely undeterred by the blood that was still oozing from inside of you as he kept your legs parted forcibly. "Oh god, Fox..." Your gasps faded into moans as you pressed your head back against the couch and raised your hips against his tongue.

He was tasting you, well and truly, and what's more, he was enjoying it.

Almost as much as you were.

He pulled back just a touch to breathe hotly against your cunt, his tongue lightly dancing over your clit as you heard him chuckle and moan quietly, raggedly, too overwhelmed by his own pleasure to try and intimidate you. 

"You taste perfect," He mumbled softly, pressing another deep kiss to your hole, his sharp teeth grazing your skin as he tasted you. "Oh, if you only knew how much your master has been wanting this~"

You moaned softly, letting your hips tilt upwards a touch as he dragged your body down against his, letting him devour you just the way he wanted, his fingers kneading your hips as he did so, digging into the soft folds of your tummy, your thighs. 

You couldn't resist reaching down and pushing a hand through his hair, rubbing against the base of his fox ears as they twitched at the motion. You were relieved that he let you do something that invasive, and even surprised when he moaned a little and pressed against you even more, pushing his tongue deeper and tasting every drop of new blood oozing from you. 

"Fox...ahhn..." You groaned, wrapping a leg around his slim shoulders, letting you rock up against his devouring mouth a little more. You probably looked a mess but like you cared. He looked at you like a piece of art, a fine meal, so that's how you felt.

"Please keep going..." You begged, squeezing your eyes shut. "Never stop, never stop..." 

"Ah," He gasped raggedly, glaring up at you with eyes blown wide with hunger and desperation, his face smeared with blood and his sharp teeth stained with the same. "You have NO idea what you're asking of me, pet…”

Body Modification (Strade/MC)

"You know that you can just buy these online?" 

Strade's voice was casual, almost playful, as if he was talking about what he had for lunch and not vaguely threatening you (as he often did), as he used his knife to slice open a package he was holding, sifting through it with a raised brow. 

"They don't even ask for a license or anything. Wild!" He continued with a laugh, fishing out what looked like...a set of needles. 

He held it up to the flickering light of the basement, his gaze scrutinous before he looked towards you again with a smirk. 

"I can only imagine the amount of adrenaline-hopped kids shoving these things into themselves. That's what we used to do, anyway."

You swallowed hard, looking from his eyes and to the pack of needles, sparkling and silver in the light, your brows knitting together in concern.

"What are you doing?" You asked, your voice unnervingly soft.

"Hmph," He let out another laugh, an (unfortunately) attractive huff through his nose before going back to his drawer of tools to look for something, a clatter of metal and tools loud in the small room as he sifted through it. "You don't have enough holes yet~"

Your face flushed bright red and you felt your brain start to short-circuit just thinking about what he could be planning, shivering and trembling in the cool air of the basement.

"S-Strade..." You muttered, trying so hard to stay calm but barely able to stop your teeth from chattering. "What are you doing?"

"Shaking already, eh?" He said with a little click of his tongue, fishing out a sharp pair of pliers and facing you again. "Don't be such a baby. You've gone through way worse than this."

You were silent as he paced across the basement and to the support beam that you were tied to (as you often were), staring down at you hungrily.

"You know, I like it when you're less docile..." He continued, his voice a little softer as he lowered himself down to one knee and yanked your shirt up your chest in a clenched fist, dragging you closer to his own body and exposing your breasts all in one go. "You're a lot more fun. I like when you're fun."

"Mmf..." You shivered a little more, yanking at your bondage, as he set down his tools and reached forward to run his thumb over one of your nipples, watching indulgently as the little nub hardened and swelled. 

You took in a sharp inhale and bit your lip hard to keep from making any more sounds, trembling as your chest felt all the more sensitive.

It felt so... forbidden. And so good.

If Strade's intent was to torture you, he was failing spectacularly.

"Feel good?" Strade asked after a moment, leaning in to bring his face closer to yours. "You can admit it, you know. I like making you feel good, too." 

"Nnnh..." You gasped again when Strade started to circle his thumb around your nipple, stimulating the sensitive spot and clearly relishing in just how much you were reacting to it, your breathing growing heavier and your mouth open with each desperate gasp. "P-Please..."

"Please?" Strade raised a brow with a slight smirk, gently pinching the swelling nub, between his thumb and pointer finger. “Please what, fraulein? Please keep going, please stop?” 

You barely even registered what he was saying, hissing through your teeth as your eyes squeezed shut and you pressed yourself closer to Strade’s larger body. You were so lost to sensation now, so caught up in the burning pleasures, your body trembling as Strade's fingers worked on your chest.

"Mm, I think that's pretty good..." Strade mumbled to himself quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, before taking the pair of pliers in hand and closing the metal teeth on your sensitive nipple.

The second you felt the tight squeeze of the pliers, your eyes shot open and a harsh cry was forced from your lips, the pain causing your body to instinctively try to pull away from Strade's, though the support beam prevented you from going anywhere.

Strade didn't stop himself from giving the pliers a teasing little tug, a mean smile on his face as you screamed, a tear rolling down your cheek at the pain. It certainly wasn't the worst thing you had felt, not by a long shot, but even so, it was hideously painful.

"Very nice. Very nice, indeed." Strade hummed with an indulgent smile. "Now..." After swapping the pliers to the hand still clutching your shirt (yanking your sore breast up a little higher), he reached over to the set of needles and fished one out of the little baggie, the point sharp and dangerous as he lined it up with the swollen flesh of your nipple. 

Your body immediately went still at the sharp point, your wide eyes unblinking as you stared at him, waiting for the pain.

"I always liked piercings," He said casually, like he was just having a regular conversation. "I dated a guy in my twenties who was covered with them, you know, he was this alternative queer in Berlin with piercings and tattoos all over, and they'd always make me crazy. Of course, that was before I killed him." He laughed again, pressing a little more against the needle, a bead of blood welling to the surface as he did so. “He was the perfect guy, then.”

You grit your teeth together, still pulling at your bondage and waiting for the pain, but still, there was nothing...nothing.

"You're already pretty close to perfect in my eyes," Strade continued, with just a touch of affection in his hungry eyes, affection that might have been genuine had he not been threatening you with a needle. "Let's get you even closer, hm?"

He didn't bother counting you in, nor waiting for your guard to drop fully before he pushed the needle into the reddened flesh.

You yelped loudly in pain as blood instantly welled up to the wound and trailed down your breast. Your body was shaking and fighting against the ropes, though to no avail. 

He knew better now not to tie you down so loosely.

After fishing for what looked like a slim metal hoop from his bag of tools, he then pulled the needle from your flesh and slid the open hoop through the freshly bleeding hole with a surprising amount of care, his fingers twisting on the delicate metal ball at the end of the hoop like he'd done it before.

And maybe he had.

"There!" Strade pulled his hands back with a triumphant grin, admiring the new piercing that adorned your shuddering chest. "It's pretty cute...and your little tits are all puffy and sensitive now, eh?" He then teased, leaning forward and running a blood-spotted finger over the new piercing through your chest, stimulating it while it was now so painfully sensitive.

You couldn't answer, your muscles spasming in pleasure (in pain) as Strade's fingers trailed over the new jewelry, his other hand reaching up to palm your unmarred breast. 

The pain was still there, because of course it was, but it was now just another way to heighten the overwhelming sensations that were coursing through your body.

"Hhhh..." You moaned softly (to Strade’s evident albeit deeply pleased surprise) as he touched you, starting to stimulate your other nipple with a hungry look. "D-do you think you should... do the other one?"

"Mm, I think that's an excellent idea, fraulein ," Strade purred with a broader smile, running his tongue along your jaw, his wet teeth pressing a smile into your neck.

"Let's get right to it."

Exhibitionism (Ren/MC)

You stood still on the train carriage, crammed between bodies squeezed in tight like sardines in a can, holding onto the hanging strap like it was the only thing that would keep you from falling, keep you upright.

In the months of getting to know each other, you had earned enough of Ren's trust for him to let you out of the house on what he called a 'date' - a day out in the city where he would treat you to anything you wanted, just so long as you behaved exactly as he wanted. 

You couldn’t deny that a part of you was a little excited by the prospect.

However, that was naturally superseded by the parts of you that were incredibly anxious about giving him that much control over you. The control that he so desperately craved.

Ren kept an authoritative hand on your hip all the while, his tail idly swishing to and fro behind him (in the small space you were both crammed into) as he scrolled through his phone, ever casual, occasionally chuckling at jokes on his timeline and playing videos on silent. When you were standing so close to him, you could see a playful smile on his face.

"Oh, we're not too far now," He said, looking towards you as he clicked off the social media app he was browsing and through his phone menu. "Just a couple more stops and we'll be in the town center. I can't believe how busy the train is today!"

"Heh, yeah," You forced out a chuckle, your face taking on a reddish hue as he slid his hand lower, threading his thumb through the belt loop of your jeans and pulling you a little closer to his side. You had a bit of a height advantage, and that was more obvious the closer you stood, when his pointed ears barely grazed your cheek, but that didn't stop you from ducking your head down submissively as he pulled you close, trying to make yourself look smaller. "It's, um, it's pretty busy. But it’s a Friday, so…"

"Yeah," He mused with a low drawl, as he brought up an app screen you didn't recognise and began to fiddle with it, toying with settings and other things (written in Japanese). "We should probably be careful with what we say."

Without warning, you began to feel a soft, albeit deceptively powerful buzzing, pressed right up against a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and against your swollen clit. 

You had seen this coming.

He'd been torturing you with this particular toy all morning, and had only conceded to the date on the second condition that he could keep it inside of you while you were out in public, visible to the entire public. And, despite how much you had argued against that condition, you had ultimately relented to his whims, out of your own sheer desperation to leave the house.

You did your best not to flinch, nor to let your expression give away the surprising (and deeply pleasurable) buzzing against your cunt, lest anyone else in the packed train carriage clock what the two of you were up to. You instead reached down and grabbed his elbow tightly, digging your nails into him through his jacket and thick coat.

Ren smiled a little broader and put his phone away in his pocket, humming to himself innocently, as if he was none the wiser, as he reached down to the short hem of your skirt (another condition to you leaving the house, though this one was more of a gentle suggestion than anything else) and slid his palm against your arse, giving it a gentle squeeze, teasing you and winding you up even more.

You tried not to flinch at that either, though you were sure that your flushed cheeks were giving the game away to anyone who might have been in the know.

"We're going to have a lot of fun today," Ren murmured, letting his head rest against your shoulder, his tail wagging a little slower and gradually curling around your legs, comforting when he was (kind of) the opposite. "Because I know you're going to do as I say, aren't you, sweetie?"

"Mmhmm," You nodded, biting your lip as he squeezed your arse a little harder, one of his claws toying with the lace of your panties. 

"Full sentence, please," Ren replied, his smile spreading into a sharp grin as he put his hand back in his pocket and increased the buzzing, making you suppress a little shriek and clutch onto his arm tighter. "Use your words."

"Ngh..." You pressed your face into the crown of his head, the fur on his ears tickling your cheek. Your groan had been enough to alert someone’s attention, a guy with his headphones in, but he clearly didn’t think much of your distress when he looked back at his phone. "I'm...I'm going to do as you say."

"Good pet,” He then whispered, keening up on his tiptoes to kiss your cheek. “I just know you’re going to do so well.”

Watersports (Lawrence/MC)

"NGH!"

You grunted harshly as Lawrence tackled you down to the ground, forcing your back hard against the ground as their heavier body pinned you still and caged you down beneath them. 

"Shhh shh shh shh shhh...."

Though their face was flushed and a little frightened-looking (as if they had never done anything like this before), Lawrence shushed you in a quiet, almost sleepy tone, as they leaned forward, their breath shockingly cool against your skin, your cheeks, your lips. 

"Don't fight me, it's so much better if you don't fight, trust me," They asserted, still keeping their voice quiet as they sat up on their knees, keeping you pinned down with their hips and their strong arms pressing their weight into your shoulders. "This can be easy, we can make this so easy , if you don't fight."

"Fuck you," You muttered through grit teeth as you tried to wrestle up against them, trying to free yourself from their strong grip on your body.

"L-Language," They replied with a dirty look, as if you had offended them, before they swallowed hard, their Adam's apple bobbing against their pale throat, and pushed themselves to their feet, suddenly standing tall and towering above you.

Planting a bare foot right at the center of your chest and pressing most of their weight down onto it, Lawrence kept holding you down against the ground, their pale grey eyes locked on yours. Their breathing became shallow and quicker-paced as they stared at you hard, and even down on the ground, you got a sense that they were trembling, still scared of what they were capable of.

It would do you no good to fight against them or to swear at them, but you couldn't help your anger. 

"I, ah..." They started, making an attempt to sound nonchalant as they pushed their shaking fingers through their hair. "I think you should just...relax. A-And calm down, a little."

"Where do you get off telling me to fucking relax?" You demanded, your voice louder than theirs (which they clearly didn't like, from the way their eyes darted to the door of their apartment nervously) as you continued to fight against their body. "Why don't you relax and let me go, you fucking psycho!?"

" Psycho? "

Lawrence's eyes narrowed as they spoke, an expression that gave away their growing anger and annoyance. 

"Now that's just...unnecessary..." They continued to murmur, eyes flitting to the side as they pressed a little more weight into your chest and listened to the gasping wheeze you let out as a response, reaching up to grab and claw at their ankle. "You...you really don't wanna say things like that to me..."

You swallowed hard as your breath felt heavier and harder to get out of your lungs, your teeth gritting and your eyes fluttering at the pressure. 

They could have broken one of your ribs from this angle if they wanted to, quite easily in fact. 

You had to wonder why they weren't doing that yet.

"Or...or what?" You replied through your grit teeth, one eye squeezing shut as another surge of pressure was pressed into your chest, testing your luck beyond all better judgment not to.

Lawrence was quiet for a good moment, their eyes locked on yours before darting to the side nervously, their chapped bottom lip between their teeth. They were still breathing heavily and slowly. 

"I could hurt you." The pressure of their weight on your chest was more intense now, and they let out a brief, quiet growl. “I could really hurt you, and I would enjoy doing it too.”

"You're already hurting me," You replied through your tight frown.

"Am I...? Am I, really?"

Lawrence tilted their head to the side slightly, an expression that was almost mocking and teasing without intending to be (though you really had no idea of Lawrence's true intentions right now, their pale face was so blank and devoid of any true expression).

Their voice was still quiet, almost thoughtful and dreamy, but it was obvious that Lawrence no longer saw you as a person when they stared down at you with their doe wide, grey eyes.

No, you were more of an animal now, a pest to be gotten rid of, a bug to be squashed.

A plant to be plucked from the garden.

You swallowed hard and your body began to thrash when, after a long moment of quiet between the two of you, Lawrence started to tuck down their sweatpants and revealed their naked and...worryingly hard and lengthy cock, without saying a word.

Lawrence smiled, but there was no joy or light-heartedness behind their expression. It was a dead kind of smile that reminded you of a corpse, an ill-fated humour without feeling behind it, their grin refusing to touch their narrowed eyes with any degree of amusement. 

They then shifted their weight once more, easing up on your chest just slightly to focus a little more attention on prying their hefty cock from their sweatpants and holding it above your eyes. 

They were breathing heavily now, and they spoke softy but without any of the previous fear or hesitation, as if they knew now that they had complete control over you. 

And they certainly did, at least for the time being.

"You know...it's so rude of me, but I didn't offer you anything to drink."

Your eyes shot wide.

"Lawrence..." You said, your voice partway between a warning and a plea. "Don't-"

Though you were predictably cut off by a splash of disturbingly warm fluid on your face. 

Lawrence let out a low chuckle as the warm (disgustingly warm, despite how cool their breath had been on your skin before) liquid hit your face, but they said nothing about it, not even to gloat or goad when you immediately squeezed your eyes shut and jerked your head to the side with a shout. 

They only shifted their weight again, watching with a curious, albeit indulgent look as the dark yellow fluid ran down your skin, repulsive and demeaning, and stained the collar of your shirt.

"Is this what you wanted?" They asked, their tone dripping with contempt as the stream finally relented, the smell of ammonia thick and heavy in the humid air of the apartment. "Ah, I see now...you're one of those types that have to be forced to behave. Isn't that right?"

You stared up at them with a grimace, despite the dark flush to your cheeks, shaking your head to throw off the drops of fluid the best you could, cringing as you felt it cling to your skin and soak in your fucking hair, god-

"Are you going to be good?" Lawrence then asked with another condescending tilt of their head, the start of a smile growing on their face.

"Mph," You bit your lip again, peering up wearily towards them, drops of fluid still clinging to your eyelashes. "Y-Yeah...I'll be good."

"Good."

Gags (Strade/MC)

The fan blades turned slowly above your head, creaking and swaying in the hot air of the summer night, yellowing from age and dotted with little mold spots that nobody thought to take care of or attend to. 

Sort of like you. 

You were in a cheap motel, strange and far from any sense of home that you might have had, ridding you of familiarity or comfort you never thought you’d associate with his house. Strade had some business to attend to in the States (no doubt to do with the shitstains that ran the website he streamed on and revenue and royalties and whatnot) and he didn't trust you and Ren enough to be left alone together.

So, Ren stayed home and you stayed with him. You just hoped that there wouldn't be any animosity from the younger man when you came home.

If you came home. 

It had been a quiet night of pay-per-view movies and takeout pizza that left a grease stain behind on the cardboard and cheese that stuck to the roof of your mouth. It was the kind of food that you loved when you were younger, when you were a plucky college student who went out drinking with friends and strangers, and needed carbs to soak in the booze, lest it spill out of you.

But you weren't that person anymore. You didn't even know what kind of person you were.

The kind of person that let this happen to them, you guessed.

"You can't scream and you can't make any noise, or it's just going to get worse. But, I'm going to give you a fighting chance, okay? Because I'm just so fucking fond of you. "

Strade's voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he pressed the thick rubber ballgag between your teeth forcefully, like he was worried about possibly disturbing your neighbors in the other hotel rooms and calling attention to the two of you. He kept you pinned still to the bed with a heavy knee against your back, and though you thrashed and fought against him, you knew that he would ultimately win whatever brawl you had.

He always won.

The rubber tasted sour against your tongue and the leather belt, pulled tight around your head and buckled at the nape of your neck, was stiff and 'unlived in', and you guessed that he had bought it fresh that day in preparation for this.

With a low grunt, he pulled the belt one notch tighter, forcing the rubber ball deeper into your mouth and the leather to dig in uncomfortably on either side of your lips.

" Wunderschon ," He smirked as he took his knee from your back, satisfied that you didn't immediately try to move once he permitted you your freedom. "And I don't think I have to worry about you screaming now, either."

"Ughk..." You groaned into the gag, as he tangled his fingers in your hair and jerked your head upwards, forcing your eyes to meet again. While yours were no doubt hazy by your newly submissive headspace, his looked fond, almost affectionate.

"Mm, very cute," He crooned, reaching forward to press two fingers against the rubber ball and trailing the touch downwards, toying with your plush bottom lip. "I don't usually care about this kind of thing. Ropes, cuffs, it's a means to an end with me, but, ah..." He tilted his head just a touch as a thick stream of drool pooled from your parted lips, down your chin and coating his fingers with shining, wet silver. "You, meine liebe ? You're good enough to eat right now."

You let out a surprised grunt as Strade shoved you back against the bed, your head hitting the pillows and your back on the mattress, before shifting between your legs and yanking at the waistband of your jeans, not even giving himself a moment to unbutton or unzip them as he tore them down your trembling thighs and tossed them across the motel room.

A lot of things could just be done with brute force, and that was something you had come to quickly learn with Strade.

"Speaking of..." He let out a soft chuckle as he placed a large hand on your belly and used the other to yank your panties down with an equal amount of force, to the degree that you swore you heard a tear. "I think I'll do just that."

Any protests you might have said petered into desperate moans and whimpers into the thick rubber as he lowered his head and dragged his tongue over your cunt, immediately seeking the tight, warm heat of your hole as he kept you pinned still beneath him, a meal ready to be devoured, a helpless victim ready to be taken advantage of.

You didn't quite have the luxury of calling yourself helpless anymore though. 

He had taken that away from you. Just as he had taken so many things.

"Ghk-" You made another attempt to speak, though you couldn't manage much but a quiet vocalization, a helpless gurgle of pain and pleasure as you rocked your hips up against his ravenous mouth, desperately seeking his probing tongue despite how much you knew you shouldn't.

Evidently pleased by your jutting hips, he moaned deeply, running his tongue broadly across your cunt before focusing his attention on your swollen clit and pressing two thick fingers inside of you as he tongued and nipped and bit the sensitive little bud, just to hear you try to squeal and cry into the gag.

"Mm, I love all those desperate little noises," He growled, pressing a hungry kiss to your soft thigh, his teeth bruising and biting and leaving more evidence of his conquest over your body. "I might even like them a little more when you're gagged. They just sound so needy and pathetic, I can’t get enough."

Your face flushed bright red at the insult, though that only made him laugh and press another deep kiss to your cunt, worming his tongue into what little space was left around his fingers (which had taken to rubbing against a particularly sensitive spot inside of you that always drove you crazy). 

You breathed out heavily through your nose, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried desperately to chase after more touches, more of the burning hot pleasure, however bad it made you feel after the fact.

You just wanted to feel good. Was that such a bad thing?

You didn't think so.

“ Ich möchte dich verschlingen, ” He whispered hotly against your skin, biting down on your thigh again before he pulled away and pressed the hard bulge in his slacks against the warm, wet space permitted by your cunt. “ Meine fleisch, meine liebe .”

He didn't even bother pulling himself out of his slacks as he rutted against you, his lip between his teeth as he stared down at you hungrily, your flushed cheeks, your watering eyes, your parted lips drooling down your chest and making the white tank covering your chest wet and almost see through.

"God, if you could look at yourself now," He growled, pressing his face against your neck and biting down, similarly hard, on the juncture between your shoulder and your neck, the space where your collar didn’t cover. "If you could see what I turned you into ."

You whimpered helplessly, opening your eyes to tiny slits to peer up at him wearily, groaning into your gag.

"Fucking slut," He smirked, running his tongue along his teeth as he bit you, and bit you, and bit you and bit you and bit you and bit you- " MY fucking slut. There was no way I was going to leave you with Ren while I was gone...let him claim what was mine the second he had the chance to. No way."

Your eyes widened just a touch at that particular reveal, before he reached up with his free hand to grab your face roughly, his big hands squeezing your cheeks and keeping your eyes glued to his. 

"You're mine," He growled, his voice intensely serious. "Mine to hurt, to fuck, to kiss, to kill, to fucking love, however I fucking want to. Never forget that, ja?”

Maybe he had been granting you a mercy by gagging you. 

So you couldn’t admit your love as easily as he could, in spite of how much you wanted to.

You nodded helplessly, all the same, in place of an actual confession. “Good girl,” He murmured, his voice a little lower as his rutting hips slowed, just a tad. “Such a good girl, fraulein. A good girl for me. Just for me”

Lingerie/Panties (Ren/MC)

"Aw, you look so cute!"

Ren cooed excitedly, raising his hands up to his mouth to cover his beaming smile, his tail wagging up frantically behind his small body.

You grimaced tightly as you stood still in front of the young man, crossing your arms over your chest (trying not to push it forward or expose your cleavage too much) and shifting uncomfortably as you shivered in the relative warmth of his bedroom, your body barely covered by the skimpy lingerie he had given you (coerced you into).

"I almost can't bear it," He said as he bit his lip, barely suppressing a giggle as he stood forward to admire you more closely, his golden eyes gleaming. "You fill it out so well! All your curves and slopes," He tilted his head as he looked at you a little more intently. “You really look so perfect.”

"Asshole," You murmured, trying to adjust your position to make your outfit sit a little worse on your body, shifting your hips and dropping your chest so it was less obviously pressed against the... cat-shaped hole in your bralette. God, he was truly unbearable sometimes. "Where have you put my other underwear? I really don't want to walk around like this all night, when it’s so cold..."

"Mm, but you know I hate it when you're all covered up," He replied with a little pout, standing a little closer and idly toying with the intricate bows that kept the bralette pulled tightly around your chest and up your shoulders. "You don't really need to wear clothes anyway, not around me. Ha, how silly of me," He laughed softly again and leaned in even closer, running the tip of his nose against your jaw. "Pets don't wear clothes, you shouldn’t have been wearing them at all~"

"I'm not-" You squeaked, a flush to your cheeks and an uncomfortable burning in your core, trying to take a step backward before the edge of the bed hit the back of your thighs. It made you shiver again. "I'm not your pet..."

"Oh, are you really that cold, sweetie?" Ren said softly, completely ignoring your protest as his hands reached down to your full, scarred hips to idly toy with the matching bows that rested on your hips. "I'll have to keep the house extra warm for you then...although," He giggled again, reaching up with one hand to run a claw over the little, pierced nub of your nipple which was pressing up against the bralette. "I have to admit, it would be pretty cute to see you shivering all the time. See your cute little nipples hard all the time, too..."

Your face flushed in embarrassment as Ren drew closer and touched you so intimately. You knew that you should push him away, you knew you should stop all of this, you knew that...but part of you didn't want to, part of you wanted to let Ren do whatever he pleased with you. 

You didn't know when you had stopped fighting against this. You didn't know when he had broken you down so far.

Would you ever get your old self back? And did you even want it back?

"Do you like the idea of that?" Ren then asked, his voice soft and crooning and gentle as he gently pressed your body down to sit against the bed, so that he was taller than you (for once), his ears twitching and his tail wagging. "Me buying you pretty outfits and keeping you dressed up and warm and taken care of all the time?"

"Mph," You did your best to suppress a soft groan, looking down at the floor to avoid Ren's gaze. You struggled to maintain your composure, your voice trembling as you spoke up again, your anger gradually dissipating more and more when he spoke to you so sweetly, when he promised you such nice things. "Yeah...take care of me. Please."

"There we go," He purred with a triumphant little smile, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead, making you flinch and whimper. "There's my good pet, giving up for me."

You swallowed hard, your eyes flitting back down to the ground as your cheeks flushed a little more, humiliated and defeated, like even your body was conceding that he had taken every sense of humanity from you, and had done it so easily, too.

You would be good, you would wear the outfits he wanted, the lacy frills, the fetishistic underwear, the costumes...you were tired of being bad.

You wanted to be good. You wanted him to be good to you.

He gave you another kiss on the cheek before reaching up to stroke your hair reassuringly.

"I'll get you something warmer to wear, hm? And then I can make you something warm for dinner." He said softly, a gentle suggestion that you knew there was no chance of arguing around.

"Mm...yeah, thank you." You nodded, glancing up with a little, submissive smile. "That sounds nice."

Bondage (All/MC)

🥀

"Keep still, I can't have you moving around like this."

Lawrence's voice was a low growl as they wound duct tape tightly around your ankles and down the backs of your feet, each movement too erratic and thoughtless for them to make sure they weren't hurting you or burning into your skin with the thick, tight tape. 

You yelped and squirmed as best you could when they pushed you onto your front, first winding the tape around your knees (thusly pinning your thighs together too) and then forcing your arms into an uncomfortable, prayer-hands position against the sloping concave of your back, before winding the tape around your wrists and palms and pinning them there, rendering you totally helpless as they kept going with their uncomfortable bondage. 

Their breathing was getting a little ragged the more they bound you, and when they pressed up against your body, tearing off a strip of tape and laying it flat against your forearm, you could feel their hard cock through their sweatpants, rocking up against your backside. 

"There...there," They murmured very softly, finally setting the duct tape down and letting their now unoccupied hands gently hold your hips, keeping you still, stopping your squirming. "That's...all I wanted to do. You understand that, right? I just..." They trailed off as their hands trailed down your hips, down your plush thighs pushed together by the bondage, down to your bound feet. "I just needed you to stop moving...drawing attention, just in case someone heard."

You took in a shaking breath against the cushion they had forced your head down into, trembling as you felt their thumbs run down the sensitive soles of your feet, quickly pulling back when they curled, when you let out a helpless whimper at their curious touches.

"Please let me go," You whined softly as their hands went back up to your hips, pressing themselves against you again, their cock still hard as they rocked your body into the bed. "Please, I promise I won't tell a soul about this."

"I know you won't," They replied, though their voice was a little more rasped and thick with pleasure when they found a warm spot against your backside, against the tight crotch of your jeans, to rock up against. "Because I'm not going to let you go. I...I don't even know what I want to do with you, but I know that much. I can't let you go, now." They draped themselves over your back then, pressing their chest against your shoulders, one hand staying on your hips as the other reached up to pull your hair away from your neck, so they could look at you. "I want you much too badly to let that happen."

You can feel your cheeks flush darkly as you squeezed your eyes shut, biting your lip as you felt theirs press against the exposed skin of your neck in a sweet kiss, your bound body shivering and trembling as they continued to rut their hips against your ass, despite the gentleness from their trailing hands and lips.

You were trying to will it away, trying to get away from this situation, but you couldn't. And what was worse, your core was beginning to stir, responding to Lawrence's movements.

"You're beautiful," Lawrence murmured hotly against your skin, digging their shaking fingers into your hips as they tried to push harder against you, making your legs tremble and struggle to hold them up. "I...I had to have you, you know? It was like a compulsion, and I..." They attempt a weak little chuckle, nestling their nose into your hair and taking a deep inhale, smelling you. "I know it sounds crazy. I know I AM crazy, but..."

"Y-You're not crazy, Lawrence..." You stammered softly, your fists curling at the small of your back, beneath the tight duct tape. "I don't think you're crazy. Just, please, let me go and I can help you, I can get you help-"

"Ah," They cut you off as their body stilled against yours, before they let out a little breath and pulled themselves away from you. "Ah...of course you'd lie to me. I should have expected that. But...well, that's okay."

They reached over for the duct tape again, a sight that made you immediately tense up and start to struggle and squirm.

"I'm not looking for you to validate me, or validate who I am," They said softly, taking your shoulder in a strong hand and forcing you onto your back, looking at your face with dull eyes. "I know who I am. I know what I'm capable of," Their grey eyes were so blown with...arousal? Anger? You weren't sure. "But you don't know what I'm capable of, do you?"

They lowered their face close to yours, their blonde hair falling over their shoulders and tickling your burning cheeks.

A mocking smile came to their face.

"You don't know what I could do to you, how I could hurt you, how I could kill you, if I really wanted to. You don't know any of that." They murmured softly, taking another slow inhale of your scent before they sat up again, and ripped the tape away from the roll. "On second thought, I don't need you to talk. I might like you better silent, actually."

You didn't have the opportunity to argue against what they were saying before they grabbed your cheeks in a rough grip and laid the strip of tape over your lips, taking the time to wind the roll around your head a few times, catching your hair in the tight stickiness and making it all the more painful.

"That's better," They muttered softly, their voice growing even more ragged as they tore off the strip and took your cheeks in hand again, staring down at you, their gaze growing even hungrier and more flushed. "Yes, that's much better. That'll do nicely."

They smiled again, before bringing their lips down to your gagged ones, giving you a sweet kiss.

You whimpered beneath your gag, squeezing your eyes shut, the only movement you were even capable of now.

"I'll keep you like this now. Just as I want you."

🦊

Ren's hands were careful and considered as he knotted the pale pink ropes down your chest, his claws delicately catching and grazing against your skin in a way you guessed was deliberate, hungry for bloody, little wounds that marred your skin and made you his.

Having kept you in the hideously girly, pink lingerie set from the previous day, Ren wanted to make things a little more intense by presenting you with a matching, pastel pink bondage set from the top shelf of his closet, intricate, leather cuffs for your wrists and ankles, a blindfold, a ballgag, and a coil of rope to top it all off.

For now, though, your wrists were cuffed behind your back as he tied the intricate shibari tie, a tutorial on his phone screen nearby to make sure he was doing everything right. 

All things considered, Ren's dexterity and focus were pretty remarkable, as he seemed to be doing everything correctly, pulling the exact right knots into the exact right positions and making sure it didn't bite into your skin too much, still prioritising your comfort over anything else for the time being. 

"How does it feel?" He asked with a smile, his voice as mellow as ever as he took the trailing ropes in hand and gave it a little yank, making sure it was secure and the knots were taut and tight. "I've actually never tried this before...you have to tell me how it's feeling, okay?"

"Okay," You murmured softly with a quick nod, as he slowly pulled the ropes between your legs, trembling a little as he pulled them tight against the (slightly damp) gusset of your panties. The pressure against your cunt was enough to make you pull at your cuffs. "Ah, y-yeah, it's fine...it feels fine." 

His hunger was evident when he looked at your body, but you still had the impression that, though he clearly wanted to touch you, to reach out and feel you, feel the heat of your panties against the ropes, he was resisting the urge to for now, knowing that it would be disrespectful to do so while you were in such a delicate headspace.

"Hey. Don't try to escape, okay?" He warned softly, his tone chiding and matter-of-fact, like he was scolding a child and not...well, talking down what was effectively a hostage. "I'm being gentle with you for the time being, so...don't make me regret that."

"I-I'm not," You replied quickly, letting your bound wrists fall still as he shifted behind you and pulled the ropes against your cunt harder, like it was a little punishment for your indiscretion. "I'm not trying to, I won't try to...s-sorry."

"It's alright..." There was an obvious smile on Ren's face as he pulled the ropes around to your front and through the knots down your chest, pulling them taut in the pattern of a tortoiseshell (a design you recognised very quickly from the various comics and cartoons he read and watched and insisted weren't pornographic). "You're behaving now, you're being a good girl for me, and I appreciate that a lot. It's a lot more fun when you're good, isn't it?"

You nodded shyly, bashfully, swallowing a little harder as the ropes of the harness were pulled a notch tighter and fed into the quasi-collar of rope around your neck, which he quickly knotted to keep secure. 

Ren's smile grew from one of anticipation to one that was slightly more malicious and desirous as he moved back in front of you, crawling around you on his knees and staring down hungrily at the tight ropes digging into your skin, making your flesh bulge around each of the harsh lines of pale, pink rope.

"So cute..." He said softly, leaning in close, his tail wagging erratically as his ears twitched. "So pretty..." He stared at all the places where the rope had bitten into your delicate skin, relishing in the swelling and harsh redness around the knots. "You look so perfect for me like this, pet. So, so pretty and trussed up and...hah..."

You took in a shuddering gasp, raising your chin a little as he lowered his face down to the crook of your neck, almost scenting you, the tufting fur of his ears caressing your cheeks as he did so. He pressed his cheek against yours for a moment, sniffing your hair as it trailed down your shoulders, the proximity making it that much harder for him to contain himself, evident from the way he quickly straddled one of your spread thighs and began to rut down against it.

"Can I do the rest?" He mumbled hotly against your cheek, panting a little as he reached up to grope your chest through the bralette while he palmed himself. "Like, the gag and the blindfold? Can I use those...please?"

"R-Ren," You squeaked, biting your lip with a little whimper as he pressed himself against you even harder, his chest against yours, his rapid breaths hot on your skin. "I don't...I don't want you to use those things on me..."

"It'll be okay." He insisted, a little frantically. "I'll be right here looking after you, and I'll be good, I promise, I will." He pressed himself against you again, gasps against your neck, his movements slightly jerky as he rutted faster and harder, each motion almost feverish. Like he was going mad from his own desperation. "Please, please let me...I want to see it finished."

Unsure of what to say (if you could even say anything), you let out a shuddering breath, jerking your chin upwards even further and biting your lip to suppress more whimpers and cries of mercy as he continued to grope your chest and palm his cock.

"Tell me you want it," He whispered with a slightly manic edge to his voice, pressing his nose into your cheek as his tail kept wagging "Say it. Give away the power...before I take it from you. You know I will."

You swallowed hard with another little whimper.

"You've already taken it," You murmured softly, looking down towards your spread thighs, his rutting hips, as he reached for the cheap ballgag, not even bothering to wait for your reply, your consent for him to do as he wanted. "Why even give me the choice?"

"Yeah...I suppose you're right," Ren then said, his voice still surprisingly soft as he stopped rutting his hips for a moment. "I guess I just wanted to hear you say it. Feel like maybe...you wanted me like I want you." 

His softly spoken explanation was certainly counteracted as he pressed the ballgag (cheap and firm plastic, the leather already biting into your skin) against your lips roughly and slowly worked it in between your teeth as you whimpered and whined and tried to pull away from him.

"But it doesn't matter if you don't want me. Not really," He whispered, pressing his cheek against yours once again, inhaling deeply as he watched you helpless and unable to speak. "Not when I have you like this...I can pretend all I want, can't I?"

🔨

"NGH! Fucking cunt!"

You fought furiously underneath Strade's body, kicking legs and fighting fists, as he pressed both palms against your shoulders and pinned you down against the basement's cement floor with all of his weight, gritting his teeth and breathing outwards with exertion as his hair clung to his sweaty face.

You had managed to get a few punches in, probably bruising his cheek badly and bloodying up his nose as it streamed down his chin and dripped on your naked chest, which encouraged you to keep fighting, but he certainly wasn't making it easy, nor was he relenting on you in any way possible.

"Hah...I have to admit, I'm pretty impressed. Not many people put up so much of a fight however many months in!" He growled with a dirty grin, his accent especially thick, placing his palm in the middle of your chest and leaning up to wipe his bloody nose on the back of his hand before licking it clean with a dark look in his eyes down towards you. "But I really am going to need to you settle down before you do something you regret. You don't have a death wish, do you?"

"Fuck you," You spat, letting out a wheezing grunt of pain as your head fell back against the floor, your chest heaving under his weight, your lungs desperately trying to keep up with your fighting spirit. "Fuck you and fuck this fucking place, you fucking prick!"

"Hmph," He let out a huffed laugh through his nose as his brows furrowed thoughtfully. "Alright then, I'll play the way you want to." Strade then leaned back, sitting his full hips down against yours and reaching to his waist, fumbling around with his belt as if looking for something. "I'm gonna need those hands to keep still first though, okay, bud?"

"NGH!" You grimaced tightly as you attempted to punch up to his chest again, but not before he quickly grabbed your wrists in one strong hand, forcing them and your arms out straight in front of you, your shoulders straining from his strength, almost threatening to pop right out of their sockets as he forced your back off the ground with a mean pull. "FUCK, stop, STOP, they're gonna break-!"

"Ah, don't be dramatic," He said with a roll of his eyes, cuffing your wrists together tightly with a pair of metal handcuffs (where did he even get those?) and finally letting your back drop back down to the ground and letting your aching shoulders rest. "I'm not gonna break your shoulders, but those hands..."

Despite the blood still clinging to his skin, he grinned as he placed his palm against yours, admiring your trembling fingers as they curled into tight fists around the tight metal cuffs.

"I'd love to see those fingers bend backward . I wonder how far we can manage before they break ."

You shrieked again, your eyes wide and bloodshot as he held onto the thick chain of the handcuffs with one hand and grabbed the pointer finger of your right hand with the other, tilting it back, little by little, enough to get you desperately bucking and squirming underneath him. 

"Stop, stop, stop!" You pleaded, a spring of tears falling down your cheeks as the bone in your fingers started to strain. "I'm sorry, I won't fight back anymore, I won't, I promise!"

"Ah, nicht so stark jetzt , eh?" He smiled with a dark chuckle, raising a brow and tilting his head in a particularly condescending way. "Not so strong when I'm planning on breaking one of your pretty little fingers."

"Mph," You whimpered as he pulled back just a touch more, the bone in your knuckle popping against your skin painfully. "Strade, p-please, I'm sorry, I won't fight anymore, I won't..."

"You know..." He purred, his eyes softening just a touch though his smile didn't relent, even a little. "I don't think I believe you. I think I'm going to have to force you to submit to me."

With that, he pulled back your finger completely with a sickening snap , your finger breaking in his grip, an excruciatingly sharp pain shooting across your hand and down your arm, making you scream out loud.

"That's one," He said with an indulgent look, staring at your mangled finger as he took the middle finger in hand and yanked that back too. "Shall we say ' two for two '? You popped two punches at me, I get to break two of your fingers...what do you think?"

"I hate you," You mumbled with a pathetic sniffle, your breathing shaking and shuddering with sobs as you peered up towards him as tears clung to your fluttering eyelids. "I hate you so much..."

"Aw," He replied with a slight click of his tongue, tilting his head. "That's not nice to say, fraulein ...especially when I like you so much."

He yanked the second finger back forcibly with another painful snap , shooting just as much, if not more, pain through your arm. 

You screamed again, breathing heavily through your teeth, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried desperately hard to wrench your wrist from his vice-like grip. 

Strade looked down at your trembling, mangled hand, evidently satisfied, when he finally let go of your wrists and let you cradle your bound hands back to your chest with a huffed sob, a cruel smile forming on his bloody face.

"Look at how much you're trembling...you look so pathetic, liebling . And pretty hot, if I'm going to be honest." He chuckled again, wiping up his bloody nose again. "I'm enjoying this an awful lot."

He reached forward and gently brushed the sweaty hair out of your desperately flushed face, smiling broader as he did so.

"You really are adorable like this. I mean, you're in such a position to be played with, all you can do is beg for mercy. It's just so...enticing. Makes me want to do bad things to you."

You were silent as you peered up towards him, the pain still shooting down your trembling fingers and through your body. 

He had beaten any sense of fight out of you, as he so often did. 

It would have been unfair, if you weren't so fucking easy to beat down.

After a few moments of heavy silence, he reached for the chain of the handcuffs again, prying your hands away from your chest, but instead of torturing your fingers any further, he just rubbed his thumb against your palm encouragingly, gently, like he was trying to calm you down.

"I'm surprised...I thought you would be more of a challenge. But it really is quite thrilling to see you so helpless." 

Strade looked down at you and smiled mischievously, dipping his head to press a kiss to your unwounded knuckle.

"I think a night down here would do you good...remind you of your place, hm? What do you think?"

Emetophilia (Lawrence/MC)

"OH, GOD, LAW-!"

You managed a disgusted yelp, a repulsed grimace on your face as you attempted to wriggle away from Lawrence's hunched-up, still retching form, though their hold on your body stayed firm as ever as they spewed their guts out all over your naked body.

The vomit was thick and almost heavy as it weighed down on your skin, both in sensation and scent, since it smelled of beer, microwaved food, and rot, just like Lawrence always smelled. The greasy feel of it clung to your skin like slime or ectoplasm (if you could possibly know what those things felt like) and despite how still you were trying to be, it managed to drip down every sensitive area of your body and cover each of your shuddering curves. 

You cringed, looking down at your shaking stomach now painted in milky-yellow puke, trying to suppress the urge to vomit yourself.

"F-Fuck," They stammered, finally looking up towards you with an absolutely mortified expression on their face, their pale skin even paler (almost green in hue) as they reached up to cover their vomit-slicked lips with trembling fingers, looking like they were about ready to puke again. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me...I-I just couldn't hold it back, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." 

"It's okay, Law," You mumbled with an attempt at a smile, though you were still repulsed as you looked down at yourself, as the vomit slowly made its way down your stomach and towards Lawrence's still hips. "Just...just let me up and we can clean ourselves off, okay? And then we'll take care of you, okay?"

They said nothing for a moment, swallowing hard and wiping their mouth down their chin, their bottom lip pulled down and exposing pale gums, doe-grey eyes wide and panicked, before they...began to move again, pressing themselves deeper inside of you, since they were still as hard as they had been before, for whatever reason.

It felt good, of course, it did, but that didn't get rid of the fact that you were still absolutely covered in their vomit, and the more they moved, the more it moved with you.

"Lawrence," You then said, your voice taking on a note of firmness as you glared up at them, meeting their eyes with your own. "Let me up. Now." Your voice had lost a bit of its usual edge though, and your quivering lip wasn’t going to be intimidating anyone soon.

"Ah," They gasped softly, lowering their body back against yours, their chest pressing into the broad puddle of vomit still clinging to your own. "I...I want to keep going. I'm sorry I threw up, but I...I have to keep going. You understand?"

"Don't keep going!" You nearly shouted, outraged, though they quickly covered your mouth with a broad palm (god, was that the one they wiped their puke up with, fuck-), their other hand reaching round to fist in your hair and keep you pinned still.

"Be good," They growled softly, so quietly and dangerously, lowering their head down to your level, their lips inches from yours, so close you could still smell vomit on their breath. "I'm going to keep going...so enjoy it, or don't. I don't care which." 

You swallowed hard and whimpered against their palm as they continued to thrust up into you, keeping your head still.

"Be good...be good."

Barely seconds after removing their palm from your mouth, they kissed you hard, their sour tongue immediately pressing between your lips like an invasive species, and you were forced to taste the vile, acidic remnants of bile and vomit on their lips, their tongue. 

You squirmed and wriggled underneath them, trying to shove them away, your arms against their strong shoulders and broad chest, but your refusal to acclimate to what they wanted and the way you fought back against them seemed to only excite (and annoy) them more, as they started to thrust in and out of you again, with a new kind of vigor. 

The combined sensation of the crushing kiss and their tongue in your mouth, and the aching stretch of your cunt around their monstrous cock, pushing deep, so deep you felt it nudge against your fucking cervix, made you moan involuntarily against their lips and hungry mouth. You could hear every one of their pleased sounds too, as they fucked into you harder, pressing your chests together and coating themselves in their own vomit even more, like the two of you were bathing in it. 

It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up, but you couldn’t deny how arousing it was knowing that they'd fuck you, even when you were covered in their vomit and when you smelled like shit. 

You could feel your cunt clench tight around them as the burning shame in the pit of your stomach made you moan even louder against their invasive kiss. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, and, dizzy with sickening pleasure, you allowed yourself to press your vomit slick fingers into their long hair and let them fuck you as they wanted.

It’s sick. 

They were sick. 

But you were so, so much worse for wanting it so bad that it ached.

Collars (Strade/MC)

"I have a present for you."

Strade’s voice was deceptively cheerful, almost airy in how light it was, as he approached you early in the morning, while you were still nursing a cup of coffee and a slice of wholewheat toast (he had good taste in sourdough, if you were going to give him credit for anything).

"Oh?" You glanced up cautiously, taking another long sip of coffee as you toyed with the thick crust of your toast, letting it break and fall apart on your plate. You didn’t trust that any gift from him would go well for you, not even for a minute. But you weren’t stupid enough to say that. "What's the occasion?"

"Come on now, don't play dumb," He chuckled, reaching forward to ruffle your hair and curl his fingers into it, a fist at the base of your skull, giving your head a little shake as he did so (reminding you of the number of times he’d done it before, bashed your head into cement, brick, bone). "Don't tell me you've forgotten already. It's our anniversary!"

"Anniversary?" You mumbled, swallowing thickly and setting your mug down, your face tight with a grimace as he curled his fingers tighter and tighter into your hair (threatening, always threatening, always keeping you alert and ready). "It's...it's been a year? Really?" 

"Yes, yes," He said, smiling as he brought his stubbly chin down to the crown of your hand, his free hand going down to your shoulder and rubbing his palm down your bare arm, feeling your goosebumps. It's almost a hug and it almost makes you vomit. "How time flies, eh? It feels like just yesterday I was picking you up at that seedy bar and we were spending our first night together."

You swallowed again. 

You had to, or you might have been sick.

"But I'm getting off-topic," He mumbled into your hair, his hand stilling as he held your shoulder, his fingers gripping a little tighter, digging into your skin (as he had done so many times before, you had the scars to prove it, to prove how much he liked digging into you ). "I have a gift for you, to celebrate such a happy day. Would you like it?"

"Mm..." You hummed uncomfortably, biting your lip, suddenly not hungry, and thoroughly put off the idea of finishing your breakfast. "Sure...that sounds nice."

"Good," He praised you casually, carelessly, (just as he hurt you so causally and carelessly, treating you like a toy he could throw away if he so chose to) as he let go of your shoulder (and your hair) and stepped to your side, a gift in hand wrapped in brown paper and twine. It was so normal looking, you almost laughed. "Here we are. Just for you."

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip nervously (you had bit it hard enough that it started to sting, it was the least amount of pain you’ve felt in days) as you took the little package, your hands shaking. 

You half expected it to blow up in your hands, or to start oozing blood or moving, like he had cut off a still-living limb from a new playmate that had been doomed to rot in the basement and gifted it to you, but nothing like that happened.

He waited expectantly for you to unwrap the gift, and...well, you had no reason not to.

Not really.

You untied the twine and removed the brown paper from the gift, your fingers brushing up against the cool metal that lay underneath.

It was a collar. 

Brand new and polished to pristine condition, you made note of as you pulled it from the paper, and lightweight enough in your palm that it probably wouldn't have even left the bruises on your neck and shoulders that your current one did.

"Out with the old, and in with the new," He said with an amused laugh, crossing his arms over his chest proudly while you gaped at the new collar, before taking the controller for your current collar from his trouser pocket and giving the button a quick click. 

The painful, bone-achingly sharp shock didn't emit like you had expected it to (like it had so many times before, you hadn’t even done anything wrong, he just did it when he felt like it) , instead, the tight metal clasp popped open at the nape of your neck and you felt it loosen instantly.

You gasped and reached up to grab it quickly, so it wouldn't fall, before rubbing your bruised skin with a relieved groan, feeling the slightly scabby bumps that the sharp prongs from the shock mechanism had left behind at the top of your spine.

"Now, don't tell Ren, I really can’t have him getting jealous," He said with a teasing tone to his voice, pacing back to his spot behind you and removing the old collar, setting it down on the counter (no doubt to be used on another helpless plaything, a pet he decided to claim as your replacement, who even fucking knew). "But your new collar doesn't even have a shock emitter in it, not yet. I figured, well, it's been a year now...I think I can trust you not to do anything stupid, since you've been so well-behaved up until now. Acting like such a little suck-up. It’s pretty cute!"

He didn't ask permission as he took your new collar in hand and brought it up to your neck, slipping it around your throat and clicking it into place, the new metal band a little looser around your neck than the previous one, but still just as immovable.

You barely resisted a whimper as you reached up to touch the polished metal, feeling the notch at your throat that he could use for…well, whatever he wanted (a leash, an o-ring, a tag that had your name, his address, a plea to ‘please take me home, I miss my owner!’)

If anything, this new collar laid his claim on you even more so than the last one.

The last collar, as heavy and as painful as it was, implied at least a certain degree of resistance, symbolising a painful punishment for misbehavior that must have happened frequently enough to necessitate such a brutal contraption.

This one told everyone what you were with just one look, that you were truly a spineless animal who didn't even need to be threatened with punishment anymore, because they thought so little of themselves, they didn't even try to fight back.

It told everyone that you had handed him your submission on a silver plate, and he had proved his ownership of you to be long-standing, brutal, and true.

He might have been bad, so bad, maybe even evil, but God, you were so much worse.

"Ah, it looks perfect. Not like I had any doubt," He toyed with the notch of the collar with a little smirk clear to his voice, triumphant and victorious, and no doubt imagining the things he could do with it. "You always look perfect."

"Mm," You bit your lip, eyes flitting downwards towards your old collar, unable to look back at him, unwilling to, (you might have cried if you even tried to).

"Aren't you going to say thank you?" He then asked, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear after a heavy moment of quiet, a thick finger trailing along the metal and back over the tight clasp that bolted you to him, permanently, if he decided to keep you . "I went through all the trouble of making it for you, after all…I think I deserve something in return."

"Ah...yeah," You cleared your throat and looked over your shoulder, through your thick hair (it had grown out in the year of him keeping you, he hadn’t cut it, he didn’t want to) back at him, an attempt at a weak smile on your face. "Thank you…I love it, I really do."

"You're so welcome," He purred, satisfied with your gratitude (at least for now) as he pressed another kiss to the crown of your head, humming happily against your skin as he wound his arms around your waist, pulling you tight to his body. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, your hands trembling at your sides. 

"Happy anniversary, liebling ...let's hope we get to another year, hm?"

Overstimulation (Ren/MC)

"Ah-ah-ah-!" You gasped brokenly as your hips rutted up desperately against the wide, rumbling head of the hitachi, wielded like a weapon, something to be used against you and to cause you pain, as his other hand roughly groped your chest, his claws digging into your skin.

"Oh, those sounds are way too cuuute~" Ren cooed condescendingly, rolling your nipple (pert and pink and oh-so-sensitive from all his teasing) between his thumb and pointer finger, pressing the vibrator even harder against your cunt as he brought his face closer to yours, sharp teeth smiling as he watched you hungrily, like you were a squirming animal in his trap. "Is that what I do to you, baby? Do I make you sound all porny and desperate, hmmm?~"

"Mmph..." You squeezed your eyes shut, tugging hard at the zip-tie that kept you bound and secured the basement's support beam and biting your lip, hard enough that you might have been concerned about drawing blood (if you could even think). When he tilted the vibrator a little, rubbing the ridged side against your clit, you took in a broken gasp, your eyes shooting wide again, staring up at the swinging lightbulb behind his head like it was the only thing you had left. "Nghhh, stoooop, I can't-!"

Ren giggled a little, running his tongue over his shining, wet jaws before leaning in close, pressing his nose against your neck, taking in your scent. 

"Not yet, not just yet," He whispered as he pressed the vibrator down a little harder, listening to your hitched breaths as he dragged it up and down your weeping slit, stimulating every sensitive area you had. "You can take it, I know you can take it. Don't you want just a little more, anyway? Don't you want to make me proud? I can make you feel so much better..." He nuzzled his face against your neck then, his own breath growing ragged and his tail wagging erratically as he kept pawing at your chest. "I'm the only one who can make you feel this good, after all."

"R-Ren, please, I really can't take it," You whimpered desperately, your voice quivering as much as your body was, trying to plead to him as he stared intently at your sweaty face. "It hurts, please..."

"Oh, you poor thing..." Ren said with a pleased sigh, a condescending click of his tongue. "You should believe in yourself more. You just need the right kind of encouragement, I think..."

He stopped groping your chest for a moment to caress your cheek and push your hair away from your hot face, an intimate and gentle gesture reserved for lovers (that feels mocking when he does it), and then leaned in, planting a firm and deep-tongued kiss to your lips, sharp fangs nipping your lips and making you bleed.

Unable to fight back, you groaned helplessly, your eyelids fluttering and your body tensing up as he kissed you, the hand on your cheek pushing your head back against the support beam, pinning you still so he could take you exactly as he wanted you. 

"I just love the sound of your moans, you know," He whispered against your lips, parted and panting, a thin string of spittle connecting them and threatening to break. "And your reactions, god, they're getting me so hot... and I'm not even halfway done with you."

Not even halfway done. How on earth were you going to survive this?

Ren chuckled quietly, almost innocently, biting his lip to suppress a smile as he pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes on yours as he gradually turned the vibrator up a few more notches, the buzzing getting louder and so much more intense.

"God-!"

You gritted your teeth with a desperate whine, your toes curling against the cold cement floor and your legs trembling underneath him, where he was straddling you and gradually rutting his own hips down against you. 

"Please, please stop, I can't, I can't-!"

"Oh no. I don't think I'm ready to stop just yet." Ren replied with another little chuckle, his playful smile broadening further into a sharp grin, his smile lines dimpling. "After all, you are so very pretty when you're all turned on like this. When you're drooling as much as your cunt is." He giggled again, his pale cheeks flushed pink, like he was saying something especially naughty. "So many cute sounds just waiting to be made, like you're my very own personal hentai..." 

A lecherous look came to his golden eyes as he turned up the vibrator another notch.

"Let's see if we can make just a few more, shall we?"

"AHHHN!" You cried out, your back arching and your eyes squeezing shut tight, your lips trembling as he pressed even closer to you, his chest practically pressed against yours, tilting the hitachi again and rubbing the bumped ridge of it against your hard clit, stimulating where you were most sensitive and relishing in just how much it was torturing you. "MPH!"

"Ohhh, oh, baby, that's it. You're doing oh-so-well, doing such a good job for me." He whispered hotly, kissing up your neck, his tongue occasionally darting out to lick over already existing bruises. "Why don't you be a good girl for me and just let yourself feel every single little thing I can give you, hm?" He tilted his head, his ears twitching. "It's easier than resisting it, right? Easier to be honest than to keep lying to yourself that you don't adore this feeling~"

"Pleaseeee," You drawled, a viscous string of spittle trickling from your lips and down your chin, tears beading in your eyes, your forehead sweating from the effort of keeping yourself from breaking apart completely under him. "Please, please, fill me up then, make me cum, I can't take it-!"

Ren laughed out loud upon hearing your request, digging his knee into your spread thigh, painful and heavy. 

"Are you begging now? Really?" He chuckled. "I'm not sure if you're in the position to be doing that, sweetie. But, yeah, maybe I will fill you...or maybe I'll do something else." 

The vibe went up another notch. Your eyes rolled back in your skull and you were beginning to lose the ability to even make words anymore.

"And I can do so much more than this too..." He whispered, pressing his cheek against yours and staring at your face, watching as your expression gave away just how much you were getting lost in the pleasure, eyes going hazy and your mind fuzzing into fog behind it. "I can make you feel so many things... so many things you haven't felt before. I can make this last forever, if I really wanted to." He giggled softly and gave you a light peck on your trembling lips. "That's an idea, isn't it? Keeping you tied up in this basement, rutting against a vibrator, cumming your brains out day after day. Maybe I'll be kind enough to fuck you sometimes too, if you ask for it super nicely. Sometimes."

Another notch. You felt your body jerk and spasm, a puppet with cut strings, a toy moments from breaking.

You wondered how many other toys he had broken. Then wondered how you still even had enough of a brain to think about that.

"I can do a lot of things to you, and I intend to do each and every one. Just as I please."

Breathplay (Lawrence/MC)

Your breath hitched tightly in your chest, tight enough to hurt, tight enough that it made your lungs burn and throb, as the plastic bag was slipped over your head and pulled around your neck.

Taking in what very little air you could and making the plastic constrict even tighter as you did so, you fought desperately hard against the strong grip around your neck, big hands (beautiful hands, hands you admired and fantasised about) unrelenting as they held the plastic tightly, undeterred by your convulsing body, and utterly silent.

Like they were doing this just to listen to your wheezing gasps of breath, just to listen to you as you were about to die.

"HGK-!" You gasped again, your eyes rolling back into your skull (showing the milky whites and bloodshot veins) with each heaving breath, sucking plastic into your gasping mouth, reaching up with bound hands to Lawrence's wrists to try and pry them away, though to no avail. 

They just held on tighter, forcing your squirming, spasming body upright, almost on your tiptoes just to meet their height.

Your limbs felt heavier and heavier with each second, sluggish and slow like you were moving in slow motion. 

Every part of your body hurts.

You knew that one day, Lawrence was probably going to kill you but not this soon, not like this, not without giving you a fighting, fucking chance-

Eventually, probably seconds before you were about to pass out (or die), they relented and let you go, watching curiously as you fell gracelessly to the floor with a heaving gasp of air, like a fish out of water.

"God," You moaned helplessly as you tried to climb up to your knees and get away from your captor, your watering eyes tearing up and your shoulders beginning to shake with barely there sobs. "God, oh God, oh God…"

"Stop complaining," Lawrence murmured through a low (and familiar) monotone, taking a step closer towards you and pressing a socked foot to your thigh, forcing you onto your back so that they could stand over you and admire your helpless body as it shook. "It's not that bad…"

"Law, please," You whimpered through your sobs, watching with wide, terrified eyes as they palmed their hard cock through their sweatpants, the image of it long and hard at the sight of your suffering imprinted onto your mind. They had enjoyed doing this to you, it seemed. "Please, don't, I can't-"

"The human body can handle an awful lot," They continued with a slight tilt of their head, a faint flush to their cheeks as they groped themselves more. "It can survive without air for almost six minutes. Of course, after four minutes, it's at risk of serious brain damage. Ah-" They took in their own short gasp, pale grey eyes growing hazy and lustful the more they touched themselves, prying their heavy cock from their sweatpants and gripping it tight, the flushed head drooling with pre-cum already. "But that's not a problem for me. I don't mind a broken toy to look after."

"Mph," You tried to crawl backward, warm tears trailing down your face as they sank down to one knee, and then the other, caging your body down with their own, appearing so much bigger and more monstrous than they had before. "Lawrence, please..."

"Shhh," They shushed you softly, not out of a need to treat you gently or with any degree of care, but out of a desire to keep you as quiet as possible. "That was barely thirty seconds. Let's try and get you to a whole minute, hm?"

"WAIT-!"

You couldn't even begin to say anything as they pulled the plastic bag over your head again before you even had the chance to take a proper gulp of air and prepare yourself for this torture.

The second time was so much worse than the first, your lungs already on fire from their previous abuse, the plastic constricting even tighter somehow and sticking to your sweaty face as you took in panicked gasps, writhing helplessly underneath them as they kept you pinned to the ground.

It was even worse, though, now that you were able to see Lawrence looking down on you so intensely, their grey eyes narrowed and focused as their hands clenched even tighter at each side of your neck, keeping the plastic bag taut.

"Fifty...forty-nine...forty-eight," They murmured, their voice sounding like it was underwater as their hands shook, just a touch, and their hips dipped down to meet yours, rubbing the head of their cock against the (unfortunately) weeping mound of your cunt. 

Their expression gave away at how surprised they were that you were wet (because of course you were fucking wet, wet enough that it was soaking into your panties), but they didn't stop counting, nor did they stop bucking their hips against yours, providing you both with a modicum of stimulation while they were committing such an awful act.

"Thirty-seven...thirty-six..." 

Slightly crooked teeth bit down on their bottom lip, their words trailing into soft murmurs as their cheeks grew even more flushed.

You were helpless to do anything but slowly suffocate underneath them, any trace of oxygen long gone as the plastic constricted tighter and tighter, your body completely slack and dead beneath theirs, like a wilted flower that had its stem cut.

"Twenty-three...twenty-two..."

You weren't sure when you passed out, but it was probably after you felt the splatter of warm cum soaking through your panties. 

[microwavensf]

omg it's worse than we thought

I made them emo....

[pygmalisms]

BALLAD 01: sexual dependency in a time of great familial turmoil

in which strade goes on an oleander family retreat.

part one of an anthology series done with @sodafeels exploring strade, ren, and lawrence.

5.3k words. ch1 of 5. wip.

[arrrmagedonnn]

Ren and Strade funart

I have a silly hedcanon that after the death of Srade, Ren could not immediately accept it and for some time talked to his corpse, watched TV with him, and so on. Maybe hedkanon is stupid, but I like it

[toasterheater]

for those that don't understand Polish, the joke is gay sex

[ngabrashvili]

Uhh sorry not posting so long time, I was a little busy…. But anyway! I draw Srade from Btd hope you like it ~

[gunsmith0]

I want to write a fan comic idk

[hiskillingjar]

Could we get strade taunting MC that, after months or more of being locked up by him already, he knows no one is searching for them and barely anything was done about them being missing (maybe MC was angry and tried to bluff about it?)

Bonus: Strade comparing MC to Ren, how big of a loser both are (albeit maybe in different ways), how easy they were to fool and catch, like lost puppies waiting for the love no one gave them in the cold world out there. Now all his to do with what he wants.

Compared to being alone and having no one waiting for you it suddenly doesn't seem so bad, right?

these prompts got away from me. i'm only a human being give me a breakkkkk

3800+ words, i want two boyfriends and i want the boyfriends to be boyfriends, and i want them to kiss open-mouthed and dry hump and then they kiss me and we're dry-humping...and we're all boyfriends and girlfriends.

"What are we up to tonight, then?"

You flinched as Strade sat down next to you, a beer bottle in hand, pulling his phone out of his trouser pocket and swiping through it the second that he was comfortable.

It had been a few months since your initial capture, and even if you were struggling to settle into the imposed routine that had been forced on you, one had been set up all the same.

Wake up. Try not to die. Go to sleep

You were surviving, the best you could, and you were alive...that's all that mattered.

"Ah, not in a talking mood, are we?" Strade asked, after a period of silence. "Well, that's not unusual from you, is it? I'm sure you're feeling a bit out of sorts." He took a swig from his beer and smacked his lips in an obnoxious way that got your skin prickling. "But, hey, that's okay! I'm here to chat whenever you're ready. And if not, I guess I'll just have to entertain myself, hm?"

"Mmhmm," You murmured a non-answer, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top of them as you kept your eyes on the television. 

"I think they're just feeling a little..." Ren started, looking up from where he was sitting on the ground, his legs crossed, his tail curled up like a stuffie in his lap, looking much younger than you despite only being a few months your junior. "Um, we just watched the news, is all. Doesn't create the best of moods."

"And what's so interesting about the news?" Strade raised a brow with a wry tilt of his head.

"Mm," Ren bit his lip, looking a little guilty as he looked away. "Um...well..."

"I'm waiting to see my missing person report," You said curtly, cutting Ren off before he had the chance to explain what the two of you were doing. 

"...Missing person report, huh?" Strade repeated, glancing curiously at you before he flashed you a devious smirk. "And I'm guessing...it hasn’t shown up, has it? That's why you're quiet?" 

Both of you were quiet then, Ren continuing to pet through his tail and your eyes locked on the TV.

You didn't want to admit to him that you hadn't found a single report of your disappearance in the months of news watching and paper clippings.

Not even one.

The bloated (and deeply subtextual) silence caused Strade to chuckle, that mischievous grin only widening on his lips as he took another long swig from his beer bottle and put his phone away, letting out a content sigh afterwards as he wiped beer froth from his upper lip.

"Ah, well, I'm not surprised there hasn't been any word about it yet." He said, talking almost casually, like he was discussing the weather. "And yet, you've been here for a little while already, haven't you? And yet, nothing has come up...isn't that a shame~"

"T-They don't stop searching for a while," Ren said quickly, sitting up and doing his best to be reassuring, shooting you a sympathetic smile. You didn't doubt that he had been through something similar during his initial months of capture, so he was probably speaking from a degree of experience. "And maybe we're watching local news...it could be more widespread, you know."

"Mm..." You murmured, crossing your arms over your knees and giving Ren a slight, appreciative smile. "Maybe."

"Ah, Ren, ever the optimist, eh?" 

Strade laughed again around the rim of his beer bottle, before he glanced back towards you again, flashing a doubtful, but (almost) sympathetic smile.

"Who knows? Maybe you're right, but," He clicked his tongue, his eyes going upwards thoughtfully "Knowing police, they might just wait a little while before giving up on the search altogether, especially if the person in question has been missing for a few months already. Pigs are..." He looked back towards you with another chuckle, a darker look in his eyes. "Lazy by nature, ja?"

"Mm..." Ren's ears tilted downwards, matching his defeated look as his gaze went back to his lap. He didn't have the energy to argue with his master, it seemed. "I mean...I'm sure it'll be okay..."

"Ah, I never said it wouldn't be." Strade replied with a wide shrug. "I'm just reminding the two of you, that if there really is no news coverage of your disappearance..." He laughed again, his eyes gleaming with sadistic excitement that was so characteristic of him when he was in this…teasing kind of mood. "Then that means I get to keep you here for just a little bit longer, doesn't it?"

You could tell that Ren was probably blushing as much as you were, even with your face pressed into your crossed arms and knees, doing your best to hide yourself.

You wouldn't give Strade the satisfaction of beating you down so quickly, though.

"S-Sure," You mumbled, crossing your arms a little tighter and hiding your face. "Whatever you say..."

"Tch, you're such a sourpuss," Strade rolled his eyes and finished off the last of his beer, setting the glass bottle down on the ground before he leaned closer to you on the sofa. "You can't expect that someone is going to come looking for you now, do you? It's been months and months...and, well," He paused for a moment, placing a hand on your bare shoulder. "Let's be honest, you probably weren't worth searching for anyway."

"Strade," Ren murmured from the side, his brows furrowed as he stared up at the two of you. "Come on..."

"What? I'm being honest, aren't I?" Strade asked with a chuckle, that little smirk still plastered on his lips as he looked over at Ren before turning his gaze back to you. "They're a little bit like you, in that way, Ren. No friends, no family..." His hand descended your arm as he spoke, his calloused thumb tracing over your healing scars, searching for a reaction from you. "And they certainly don't seem like they had a very interesting life anyway...so why would anyone care about them? 

He paused, his eyes going back to Ren.

"About either of you. That’s kind of what you get for being such,” He laughed, shaking his head. “Ah, shut-ins, right?"

The two of you were quiet again, soaking in the truth of his statement but not rising to it, and when you glanced his way, you could see that Strade was looking thoughtful for a second. 

Like he has expected some kind of reaction from you, and hadn't gotten what he wanted.

"Hm..." He hummed, taking his hand from your arm and letting it rest on your knee. "But...maybe I was being a bit too harsh, hm? Because I do care about you two...in a way."

A more casual smile came to his face as he rubbed your thigh, switching his gaze between the two of you.

"After all...you are my playthings~"

"Don't talk about me like that," You snapped back curtly, placing your legs flat on the sofa and your hands by your sides in protest. Your biting remark earned a warning look from Ren, narrowed eyes, his ears tilted forward in alarm and caution. 

He had gone through this before, of course, and knew when to duck his head and play 'the good boy' for his master.

"Ah, such a strong sense of self, hm?" Strade asked with a barked chuckle, squeezing your thigh firmly and leaning in even closer to your body, his smile sick and toothy. "Too bad you don't have the strength or the freedom to act on that feisty attitude, isn't it, liebling?" 

Despite being so close to you, Strade's eyes then went back to Ren sitting on the ground, shaking his head as he gave him an almost pitying and soft look...appealing to all of Ren's sweeter sensibilities.

"Unlike this one...my obedient little pet..."

Predictably, Ren's expression turned a little softer as he crawled closer to the sofa, searching and keening up for Strade's free hand as it pressed through his hair and pet the space behind his ears, the space he liked to be pet. 

Always 'the good boy' when Strade was nice enough with him...patient enough.

He was easy like that.

Your expression screwed up in annoyance as you watched the two of them, as you watched Ren climb up on the sofa and nuzzle up to his captor with a wagging tail, feeling almost a sense of betrayal as a result of your fellow captive's softness. Like he was giving you expectations to live up to, if you wanted to earn Strade’s fleeting kindness.

"Ah, I think someone's getting a little jealous~" Strade teased, catching sight of your expression, his hand descending down the back of Ren's shorts as he pulled the younger man closer to his body. "Ah, but don't worry, fraulein...I have plenty of love for both of my precious toys, hm?" 

"I'm not your toy," You murmured hotly, your face flushing as you averted your eyes, all while Ren started to rub against his captor, the sticky tip of his cock peering over the waistband of his shorts.

So fucking easy.

"Ah, is that so?" Strade asked with a little growl, as the hand in Ren's shorts slid to the front and he started to palm and grope at his cock, making Ren all the more desperate for him. "I think the lady protests too much..."

He then reached over and roughly grabbed your chin with his free hand, forcing your eyes together and your body closer to his and Ren's.

"Mm!" You grunted as he forced you forward, your eyes squeezing shut as you shoved a hand against his chest and tried to push yourself away. 

He was stronger than you, though, always would be, and held you firmly in place.

"Then what exactly is it that you think you are, hm?" His voice lowered as he pulled your face closer to his, his lips almost (almost) tracing over your cheek. "Because I'm pretty damn sure I said it earlier...you and him, are both just little toys for me to play around with~"

"Mm..." You let out a low grunt, your eyes fluttering open when he kissed you (really kissed you!) on the cheek, as you gave him a defiant look.

It was all you could do. 

You couldn’t fight him, or argue with him in any meaningful way. This was all you had, now.

Petty defiance.

That just caused Strade to laugh again, still keeping his grip on your chin as he looked deeply into your eyes, clearly unphased by your little show of defiance but...maybe a little impressed that it had persisted this far.

"Such a determined, little toy...even though you know damn well that you're powerless."

He then let out a little sigh, feeling as Ren pressed his body against his side and rubbed his cock against his hip, whimpering and moaning for his attention. 

His grip on you lightened up a little, as he gave you a (handsome) smile, reminding you of the charming stranger who chatted to a lonely soul in a shady bar, and not the man who he really was.

"But, I'll admit...I find that defiant look in your eyes to be, ah," He chuckled again and gave Ren's cock a firm squeeze. "Kind of sexy. You little spitfire, you..."

"Fuck you," You said, though the bite behind the words was lacking its usual venom.

You didn't want to get punished, at least in any significant way. 

Your recent cuts had barely started healing, after all.

"Ah, such rude language...such a bad, little toy."

Strade let out a condescending tut, shaking his head and suddenly giving your cheek a firm, hard *SLAP*, once, twice, three times, with the hand not holding your chin (making Ren immediately jump backwards against the sofa, his eyes wide and his ears up and alert).

"AH!" You yelped after each slap, your head jerking to the side, burning red from the harsh contact. 

"Do I need to remind you about what happens when you misbehave like this?" He asked firmly, running a knuckle down your blazing cheek as he brought his lips close to your ear, his voice low, almost dangerous. "Because you're on the verge of getting punished now...and I know you really don’t want to be punished, do you, fraulein?"

"N...No..." You murmured, looking back towards him, tears threatening to streak down your cheeks and your expression thoroughly defeated. "I won't...misbehave. I’m sorry, I’ll be good."

"Good..." Strade purred with a smug look of satisfaction, seeming pleased with your docile response as he stroked your cheek a little more fondly. "Good girl. That's what I want to hear."

"Mm..." You hummed with subdued pleasure, willing yourself not to keen into the soft touch.

You wouldn't, you couldn't do that to yourself...could you?

Predictably, Ren slowly slinked back towards Strade once he was done with you, his small form pressing against his broad back as his tail wagged slowly, side to side. 

It seemed, despite (or maybe because of) your abuse, Ren wanted his master's attention.

You were a little offended by his total lack of loyalty, but more than that, you felt your core start to throb at the realisation, watching Ren's sleepy desire melt away as he waited for that desire to be given from his master.

You couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t get a little turned on yourself, if you watched Strade beat Ren into submission.

What was loyalty here, anyway?

Strade naturally took notice of Ren’s need for attention, pulling one hand away from your face to reach over to his, pushing thick fingers through his soft hair and idly scratching his scalp again, like he was stroking a beloved pet in his lap.

"Ah, let me guess," He murmured with a knowing smirk and a subtle click of his tongue. "You want me to pay attention to you now, don't you, fuchs?"

"Yes," Ren nodded, not even a little guilty, it seemed, as he pressed closer to him, his tail wagging even more at the offer. "Please, please pay attention to me."

"Such a needy little thing," Strade chuckled, his voice almost a coo as his gaze switched between the two of you, a dark, lustful look of realisation coming to his face as he thought of what to do next. "Here's an idea...how about you two play together for a while, hm?"

"Huh?" Ren blinked golden eyes at his captor, before looking towards you, his cheeks almost as red as yours, (in spite of not having the same abuse thrown towards him, this time around).

"You heard me, Ren," Strade asserted firmly, taking a firmer grip on your chin and pulling you inwards, towards their tangled bodies. "Play together." 

You gave them both another defiant look, but, for whatever reason, didn't pull back as Strade pulled you in towards Ren and forced your faces together, initiating a (not wholly) non-consenting kiss.

"Mmph," You groaned, trying to turn your face away, but Strade's grip was stronger than your will to fight, and Ren's subservience kept his body tethered in space.

You had no way of winning.

Strade chuckled, seeming almost amused by your final display of defiance (and how much it was weakening) as he forced you closer to Ren and watched as your lips connected, a characteristically sadistic gleam in his eyes, as he let out a small sigh of contentment.

"Mmm...such a beautiful sight to witness..." He sighed, taking his hand from your chin and pressing it against the front of his khakis, groping the growing hardness of his erection.

"Ahhnn…" You groaned and gasped, as Ren pressed his hands to your chest (copping a feel of your breasts beneath your tank top) and ran his tongue over your lips, deepening the kiss and making it all the more intense.

You weren't sure if he was doing this for himself or his master. You weren’t sure if the distinction mattered that much anymore.

"Mmm! Such a bold move, Ren...little pervert that you are."

Strade laughed again with an indulgent look in his eye, watching the scene play out before his waiting eyes, as he groped at his cock. Before long, though, he raised a hand back up towards you, taking a firm fistful of Ren's hair and forcing him deeper into the kiss.

“Harder. Keep going.”

Ren let out a frightened, little yip as he was pushed harder against the kiss, with that force being enough to part both of your lips for just a moment, making the sloppy exchange of tongues and saliva and spittle all the more...erotically grotesque and obvious.

"Mmm...that's right...just like that..."

You were like his own personal porno, exaggerated kisses with too much saliva and wetness, groping hands, pantomimed moans and groans to make the pleasure appear all the more real.

You knew that this was fake. 

That didn't stop your entire body from throbbing with want, though.

"Hmph..." You groaned softly as Ren hurriedly pulled up the front of your tank and started to touch your chest, hot skin and skin, the kisses only growing more erratic and exaggerated.

"Ah, so naughty..." Strade murmured approvingly, sitting up (his belt was unbuckled, and his khakis were unzipped and unbuttoned) and showing off the hard lines of his erection through his briefs. "You're making this old man feel pretty excited, you know that, fuchs...?"

His firm grip on the back of Ren's head tightened, making the younger man groan hungrily against your lips, as his other hand reached down and slipped back into the crotch of his shorts, pulling the waistband down around his swelling knot and framing his cock with elastic. The tip was bright red and sticky with oozing pre-cum, and your mouth subconsciously watered for it.

"Mm-ahhh..." Ren pulled back from the kiss with a needy little whine, drool and slobber pooling down his chin as you followed after him, leaving kitten licks against his jaw, his chin, and his neck. “Nnnh…”

Strade laughed warmly, seeming to enjoy the sight of both of you so close together, jerking his fist up and down Ren's cock and indulging himself in his needy whines, and the way his body trembled with want. You knew if Strade kept touching like this, Ren was going to cum in an instant, and you hoped (hoped, hoped) that he wouldn’t.

"Ahh, how adorable...you two look so lovely together." He let out a little huff of amusement through his nose. "Maybe it's time for me to step in too, hm?"

"Mm?" Ren glanced towards his master, his cheeks flushed as Strade leaned closer and took Ren's lips with his own.

You pulled yourself backwards and blinked as Strade and Ren began to kiss hungrily, your head growing hot and your eyes hazy at the display. 

You might have been defiant, still, you might have played the role of 'the little spitfire' that Strade was so fond of, but there was...something about this that was getting you really, really hot.

Strade's head was tilted forward completely as he pressed his thick lips firmly against Ren's, his tongue forcing its way past Ren's pale, trembling lips and creating a hard kiss, an embrace that was as suffocating as it was pleasurable for the younger man. From the way that Strade was shifting, you had a sense that his arousal was growing as quickly as Ren’s had, as he deepened the kiss even more, wanting every inch of that mouth to be throughly claimed and owned.

Pulling back from the kiss slightly, he glanced over, peering at you through eyes hazy with desire, the sadistic glee in his eyes growing more intense as he took in your own hungry expression.

"Come here, liebling," He crooned, letting go of Ren's cock (much to the younger man's chagrin) and patting his knee authoritatively. "Come here...come to me."

Without a word of defiance, you crawled towards their bodies and keened into Strade’s suffocating warmth, pressing more kisses and kitten licks against his neck, his soft, scarred jaw, his stubbly cheek.

"That's it," He praised, his golden eyes flitting shut as he let out a low groan of pleasure, tilting his head back against the sofa’s cushions. "That's a good girl, my good girl..."

His free hand slid down the back of your shorts then, kneading and groping your soft ass and pulling you closer, tethering your body to his, before he leaned forward to press hard, open-mouthed kisses against your own gasping mouth...all while Ren keened in even closer too, so close that you can feel his lips trail against yours.

"Mmm...ahh,"

The room was filled with the sound of hot, wet kisses, wet lips and tongues trailing over hot skin and flesh, teeth biting, breath heaving. The heat of the three of you all pressed together, like a grotesque sandwich of desperate hunger, was growing more intense by the second, and it was making all three of you that much more erratic.

Strade pulled you into a lip-locked kiss, his tongue slipping its way into your mouth as you felt him press his hard against your thigh, while Ren licked needily at the wet crevice between your lips, his own cock bobbing uselessly against his belly, smearing pre-cum into his skin and pubic hair. 

You did the same when Strade pulled back and kissed Ren with the same forceful hunger, rocking your cunt against his lap and leaving a damp smear of wet against his khakis, all while desperately trying to claim the kiss, as Ren had done to you.

Ren's hand slipped down the front of your shorts, probing and toying with the (frankly embarrassing) wet slick of your clit and your folds as the two of you began to kiss again, wet, hot, heaving breaths, moans and whines as you tried to push closer to him, reaching down to circle your fist around his cock, drinking in his moans as he pressed them into the kiss.

Strade's grip on both of you (his hand on your ass, the other in Ren's hair) grew tighter as he pressed both of his little playthings together, like a little kid playing too roughly with his toys, a predator fucking around with his prey. 

His body was feeling especially hot beneath yours, though, responding well as you both kissed so hungrily and desperately, his own tongue exploring, claiming, owning, both of your gasping mouths each time you took a moment to peel back from each other and breathe.

He had thoroughly crushed the defiance out of both of you, and it was intoxicating.

Strade finally pulled away, breaking the kiss between the three of you, a sinister and sadistic grin plastered on his face as he gazed down at both of you, his excitement at its peak from the show he had just witnessed.

"Mmm...I can tell that you've both finally given in to me...you're mine now, toys...and I won't let either of you get away from me."

[rzyraffek]

what do you think about Strade x Ren stuff?

Its bad, really bad. It's litteraly shipping victim x abuser. and tbh I always thought that Ren is underaged??(but i guess its cuz he wears oversized clothes and idk it maybe its just an artstyle and how tiny he looks in comparison to Stade, but maybe dude is just huge) Now I know that Ren is 19 but its still weird cuz Strade is like 36? 34? And its kinda mentioned that Ren has been kidnaped for a while (but it also could mean that hes been here for like few weeks cuz 'a while' can mean litteraly anything, but he has scars and judging by how deep strade cuts it could take months for it to properly heal)

It is weird to ship them, kinda gives me proship vibes. Also Ren in btd1 is such cute bean😊 and yall seen what he did to strade in btd2??? Dude did not like his homeboy, at all

[microwavensf]

Ren Hana from btd/btd2!!

[das-sena]

[oyayablog]

🧍‍♀️ *drop these and run away*

Lovely characters belongs to @/gatobob!

Thank you for your attention🌷

[mothwingwritings]

Boyfriend To Death/The Price Of Flesh Sleeping Headcanons 🌙💤🛌

Hello everyone! In between fics I have been working on some headcanons, like this one, for your reading pleasure. :) It's some bedtime/sleeping arrangement scenarios feat. you and our favorite murderous companions. <3 It’s dedicated to all the sleepy individuals out there that just want to hit the hay and snooze the day away-I feel you and you are valid. Also there is a bonus plushie headcanon for each character because why not! If you don’t have at least stuffed creature on your bed, this is your sign to love yourself. Go acquire a friend and snuggle up with him, I demand it. ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

DUE TO THE NATURE OF THESE HEADCANONS AND THE SOURCE MATERIAL, 18+ ONLY PLEASE!

Warnings: abuse/abusive relationships, noncon/dubcon, forced cuddling, forced interaction, forced relationships, implied kidnapping, being held against your will, reader is threatened and hurt, mentions of/implied sex, very lightly edited.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ��｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Ren/Fox🦊

·         Exceptionally clingy when he sleeps. Honestly like a suction cup. Regardless of if he’s the little or big spoon, he’ll be latched to you the whole night. Wiggle and complain as much as you like, he’s not relinquishing his hold.

·         Even if you two are just taking a little nap together, he always has to have some kind of skin contact with you. Holding hands, cuddling, a limb draped over you, something.  He needs the reminder that you are there and that you aren’t going anywhere, he can’t sleep peacefully without it.

·         He’s warm. Too warm, really. Uncomfortably warm. In winter this poses no problem, but during the summer it’s nearly unbearable. You need to crank the AC to keep yourself from melting into a puddle of sweat, but the added cold only makes him cling to you tighter, increasing the heat. He doesn’t seem to mind the warmth at all and takes offense if you try and voice your irritation, giving you an earful (if not worse) over how you need to be more grateful for the affection he douses you with, warning that if you don’t watch yourself, next time it snows you’ll be camping outside with nothing but the clothes on your back. We’ll see how much you miss his warmth then.

·         He’s a night owl, but he also somehow always wakes up before you do. It’s not uncommon for you to be awoken by an eager beastkin shoving a homemade breakfast in your face, excited to start his day with his love by sharing breakfast in bed with you and watching anime. <3

·         Though sometimes he gets a little too excited in the morning, and if that’s the case you’ll be waking up to a very handsy man pawing at you, kissing any and every place his lips can reach, pressing himself against you so you can feel just how excited he is. It’s a good thing you are in bed because by the time he’s done you’ll be so worn out you’ll need some more rest. ^^;

·         Also, he is an avid fan of plushies. If you also collect them your bed is going to be 90% plushies and he is 100% going to use that as an excuse to be squeezed on the bed with you as close as physically possible so as you all can have room. None of them are allowed on the floor, no man is left behind, and he’ll make sure you all fit whether it is comfortable or not.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Lawrence🌿

·         Lawrence is the exact opposite of Ren when it comes to contact. Though he may fall asleep with you in his arms (or vice versa), he very quickly grows uncomfortable with the prolonged contact, his body used to being the sole person in his bed. Very shortly after he falls asleep, he will unconsciously push you away to try and create distance. No matter how much he may yearn for your contact in his waking hours, he has no control over his subconscious actions. Often times the shoving is much rougher than it needs to be, abruptly (and painfully) waking you up in the process.

·         However, this does not deter him from making you sleep with him. Even if he ends up damn near shoving you off the bed, he wants you to be close to him for as long as and as much as possible.

·         Lawrence is basically nocturnal, and even if you are also a night owl there are bound to be some times when your sleep schedules don’t fall in line with each other. He gets a little excited when you fall asleep when he is awake, taking pleasure in watching you as you slumber. The way you lay near him, completely unguarded and quiet, only the slow rise and fall of your chest denoting that you are alive at all… It does something for him. More than once you’ve woken up to him standing over you, face flushed and tears in his eyes as he’s pumping his dick to the sight of your passed out form. If you wake before he can finish himself, he’s gonna use you to complete the job.

·         In fact, he just likes to stare at you while you sleep in general. He doesn’t have to feel anxious or worried of how you may perceive his gawking if you aren’t aware it’s happening to begin with. It’s a nice chance to really take in and appreciate your beauty without facing any backlash, and it comforts him to know you trust him enough to fall that deeply into slumber in his presence.

·         Doesn’t really get the point of plushies and never really had a strong attachment to stuffed animals as a child, so he doesn’t have any of his own and has no desire to own any. He thinks it’s cute that you like them though, and won’t deny you if you want to take one or two to bed with you. If you gift him one, he’ll be flustered but thankful, hugging it when he is unable to hug you. The little friend is a perfect cuddle buddy for when your sleep schedules don’t align and he doesn’t want to disturb you once you have fallen asleep.

·         Just be mindful that if he gets agitated or you piss him off, he’ll definitely destroy your beloved stuffies, tearing them to shreds with either his bare hands or any of the gardening  tools he has lying around. He’ll instantly feel bad if you begin to cry over it, but at that point it’s too late. It’s best to stop the tears before he turns the assault towards you.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Strade🔪

·         Strade is all over the place when he sleeps. It doesn’t matter how big the bed is or how little space you take up in it, his presence is unavoidable. You can try and create as much distance as physically possible, scrunching yourself up in a corner in hopes that he doesn’t come in contact with you, and you’ll still end up with him sprawled all over you come morning.

·         He’s also loud. Snoring, grunting, talking in his sleep, he’s so noisy it’s a wonder you can get any sleep at all. You get used to it after a while (you don’t have a choice), but each time he nudges you in his sleep or wakes you up with a particularly loud snore, it’s all just another unpleasant reminder you are stuck with him, unable to find tranquility even in your dreams.

·         He has a tendency to latch on to and keep a close hold of whatever is closest to him while he sleeps. The moment he looks even slightly drowsy you try and stay away from him, not thrilled with the prospect of being smashed up against him for hours on end while he’s pleasantly off in dreamland. Were it anyone else or any other situation, you may find the clinginess endearing, but with Strade it’s just extremely uncomfortable and confusing. You spend the whole time unsure if you want him to wake up and let you go (and thus have to deal with an alert and active monster) or if you want to remain silent and just put up with it, thankful for the rare moment of peace.

·         He sleeps the best after successfully finding and securing a new victim, the gusto and energy that he puts towards spending time with his new ‘friend’ leaves him completely spent by the end of the day. A tired Strade is usually a good thing for you-if he’s worn out, he’s less likely to bother or hurt you. However the opposite is also true, if he hasn’t been able to blow off steam in a while he’ll grow antsy and restless, and he’s bound to make his lack of sleep and overall disgruntlement your problem. Regardless, you won’t get much sleep either way, as you find no contentment in either situation.

·         Though they aren’t really his thing, he is amused by your plushies. While he can see the appeal of them, the only real interest he takes in them is how you react to them. Which ones are your favorite, do you favor one character or animal over another, do you prefer the big and fluffy or small and squishy? Most importantly though, he wants to know how deeply your fondness for them extends and how/if he can use that as a persuasive tool against you in the future. Should they prove to be a promising means of coercion, prepare for quite a few new plush friends to keep you company in the future. :)

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Celia👩‍💼

·         She’s an early riser. Not necessarily because she wants to so much as it’s engrained in her from years of putting in overtime at her corporate job. If you try and pull her back into bed she’ll gripe at you, but is secretly happy that you are willingly making yourself a scapegoat for her laziness. Though on days she absolutely has to get up early, you best be getting up right alongside her to help her get ready for the day or you will be deeply regretting it. She always takes precedence, you can sleep more when she leaves.

·         She’s on edge most of the time and is overall a very light sleeper. If you snore or toss and turn too much, she’ll get pissed off and roughly shove you awake, grumbling obscenities while complaining about how annoying you are being. If she can’t sleep, she certainly isn’t going to let you sleep either.

·         Even if you aren’t a noisy or restless sleeper, she’ll still find constant things to gripe about regarding your sleeping arrangement. Either you take up too much room, or you are encroaching on her personal space, or you have some other sleeping habit she finds grating that you have no control over because you are unconscious when you do it. She doesn’t ever seem overly pleased to share sleeping space with you, and you often wonder why she doesn’t just banish you to the couch or some other place to get your rest.

·         And yet, she never does make you sleep elsewhere.  In fact, it only makes her MORE pissed off if you suggest it, taking it as a personal offense that you don’t want to spend time with her. She won’t admit it to you, but the act of sleeping near someone she doesn’t positively loathe or who isn’t trying to use her in some way is one of the few things that really brings her peace. Even if it’s against your will, having you in bed with her soothes her. It’s honestly the best sleep she has had in ages.

·         She’s not a huge cuddler, but she does like physical confirmation that you are near. Often times she’ll reach out in the night to grab your hand or drape her arm across your body, never smothering, but just enough contact to assure that you are still by her side.

·         She staunchly refuses to have any stuffed animals in her bed, telling you she finds them childish and stupid (whether she actually feels this way or is just pissed you are trying to bring things into her bed that take up even more space is debatable). If she finds any plushies you are hiding she will most likely throw them away on sight. You may be able to get away with a little one, but that’s only if she doesn’t find it or is feeling extremely benevolent.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Derek🦂

·         The only time Derek shows any kind of ‘affection’ is when he sleeps. Like Strade, he likes to secure himself to things while he slumbers, and if he doesn’t fall asleep with an item (you) already in his arms at some point in the night, he will subconsciously grab onto something (also you) and not relent until he wakes the next morning.

·         The way he clings to you can almost be considered sweet. Wrapping his arms around you securely, burying his face into your chest or the crux of your neck as he snuggles up against you as close as physically possible, it makes you momentarily forget what a monster the man beside you actually is. It’s almost as if he’s a child huddled up close to a parent, seeking comfort from the things that go bump in the night.  The spell is broken if he happens to be awoken during one of these cuddle sessions, and he’ll take out his embarrassment over the situation by treating you even crueler than he typically does.

·         One of the few niceties he allows you is sleeping in his bed as opposed to the floor-but it comes at a price.  It’s an honor to be able to sleep next to him nightly in his huge, plush, expensive bed, an honor far too good for the likes of you. He expects to be compensated for his generosity, so you’d best be ready to do any and everything he asks or desires at the drop of a hat, no matter how degrading or agonizing it may be. If you want to keep this privilege while preventing as much suffering as possible, you’ll do as he says. (Then again, it’s not like he really needs your active participation to force what he wants out of you, but he does like when you obey him ‘willingly’ and has a tendency to be a smidge less cruel when you follow his instruction).

·         He usually forces you to either sleep nude or in some very compromising/uncomfortable/embarrassing negligee that covers so little you mine as well BE naked. He’s a blanket hog too, and has a penchant for cranking up the AC at night, leaving your only source of warmth to be curling up beside him. You try and fight it at first, but you inevitably give in when the chill gets to be too much (also you aren’t too keen on getting ill in his presence, swallowing your pride is worth it if you can avoid more suffering).

·         He will mercilessly make fun of and belittle you for any stuffed animals you may have or try to sleep with. He’ll infantilize you, asking if you need a binky to go with your stuffy, or tease that he’ll need to put you in diapers so you don’t accidentally shit the bed. However, even with all the constant mocking, he does find it kinda hot when you try and use the plushies as a shield, doing your best to conceal your sniveling face and exposed body behind the fluffy creature as he plows into you ruthlessly. The toy does a shit job shielding you, but it is hilarious to watch you try and hide yourself behind them.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Mason🐻

·         Despite everything, he’s actually probably the nicest of the lot to sleep with. He’s warm and soft, and when he holds you it’s comforting and shockingly soothing. It’s disconcerting how easily you melt into the same person that caused you so much trauma and torment, haunted by the fact that the arms that now wrap snuggly around you were not so long ago the greatest threat to your life. You don’t know whether you should be more disgusted with him for holding you with such familiarity or yourself for enjoying it as much as you do.

·         The man can sleep almost anywhere. After years of surviving out in the wilderness he has honed his body to handle tough climates and all manner of conditions, granting him the ability to thrive in less than favorable environments. The man could probably fall asleep in the middle of a torrential downpour with nothing but a rock bed beneath him and come out of it completely rested.

·         You aren’t expected to immediately be able to rough it. He realizes this way of life is all fairly new to you and that getting used to nights out in the wilderness has its own learning curve. Because of this, he’s actually surprisingly accommodating about the whole thing. When you camp, he makes sure to bring his best tent and sleeping bag for you to use, even though it’s a hassle to drag around and he himself has long since forgone the need for it. Though it’s nearly impossible to find comfort enough to sleep while stranded deep out in an unfamiliar forest, surrounded by nothing but the pitch black of night, all manner of voracious wild animals, and a serial killer, he does his best to make sure you are adequately cared for and as content as you can possibly be.

·         However you best not slack with your survival instincts, this coddling is only a limited time deal. You proved yourself to him once by pulling through his trial, but that doesn’t mean you have a free ride forever. He’ll pamper you a bit in the ‘honeymoon’ phase, but if you grow complacent and begin to let him down… It isn’t going to be a smooth or happy time for either of you. Its best not to betray his expectations, if you do something overly stupid or otherwise show your survival was just a fluke… your sleeping arrangement is going to be the least of your concern.

·         He finds your affinity for stuffed animals a bit juvenile, but also slightly endearing. He can’t deny how cute you look when you are curled up in his bed, nestled amongst various furs and blankets, clutching tight to your favorite plushie while you rest. He enjoys that sight so much that he decides to make you his own plushie for you one day as a gift.

·         It was a strange little lumpy creature he cobbled together from various fabric scraps and other soft, but unidentified, material, all sloppily hand sewn with little black buttons for eyes. It was a true amalgamation of mismatched cloth and stuffing, and to be honest… You weren’t really sure what it was supposed to be. A bear, maybe? Or a raccoon? Regardless, you take it without question, and once he sees it’s been accepted he’s quick to discard your previous plush. He’s accepting of this hobby to a degree-you can have ONE. And since you were smart and picked the better of the two, you don’t need the ratty old one to cling to for company anymore. You have him and you have his gift, everything else is frivolous.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

[not-kidseller]

HEIIIII HELLOO some drawings i did