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star-spacer · 1 year ago

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A Promise Made, a Person Met

I meant to make this as part of natsumeweek but life just gets in the way so I have a backlog of one of two natsuyuu and mushishi fics I'll post them slowly lol

Natsume x reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Coming back with plans to fulfill your promises, you end up meeting someone new.

[Image ID: A long horizontal screenshot of green countryside. In the distance there are green mountains and trees.]

You had never seen a person shine as brightly as he did before.

Backlight against the backdrop of the school window the sun only served to enhance the glowing power he held within his core. It took you off-guard and you stared embarrassingly long at the willowy boy before giggling and his uncomfortable shifting snapped you out of it. You quickly introduced yourself and sought your assigned seat, somewhere in front of the boy and plopping down on it and hunching down. The awkward conundrum of being a teenager hit like a truck and you wanted to cover your face in embarrassment. Trust you to make a fool out of yourself on your first day at the new school.

“All right, everyone, settle down,” the teacher called. “You have more important things to worry about. Like this week’s upcoming test.”

There was a resounding groan but every student dutifully got out their work. Amidst the rustling of papers and folders, you overheard one of the boys behind you speak up.

“Wow,” he declared. “I never thought I’d see the day when our very own Natsume Takashi would get an admirer!”

You sunk down deeper into your seat, but one thing out of all that caught your attention.

Natsume Takashi.

You wouldn’t forget that name. After all, he shone like the sun itself.

The first time you two met outside of school, it was when you were running errands for your parents. A bright, cheerful day, sunlight falling down onto your skin to warm it as you stepped out of the house. Your parents wanted you to run to the store, to grab ingredients for treats to repay the kind couple next door. They had brought loads of food for your family the first week you settled there, and now, your parents wanted to repay the favor.

Just as you were shoving on your shoes to avoid your brother’s requests to pick up extra snacks, the sounds of chattering approached. Looking up made you squint your eyes at the golden-warm glow, realizing it was Natsume and a black-haired boy walking past the half-wall of your house. The two of you locked eyes and simultaneously froze like deer in the headlights. For a moment, the world, gleamed vibrantly, as if this boy’s arrival had made the world become better.

Natsume’s friend didn’t realize anything until he was a good few steps away, stopping and glancing back at Natsume and then following his line of sight to you.

“Natsume?” He asked, hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

His words broke the spell that held the both of you and heat spread across your face.

“Hi, Natsume!” You said almost too loudly. “I didn’t expect you here.”

“Me either,” the boy returned. He jerked an awkward thumb at the one next to him. “This is Tanuma Kaname, Tanuma, this is my new classmate.”

Tanuma had an aura around him, not the glowing power like Natsume, but enough to be noticeable. This time, you didn’t get caught up in staring as you introduced yourself, still standing stiff-legged in front of your door.

“Ah,” There was something that shifted in Tanuma’s eyes, but his expression didn’t betray anything. “Nice to meet you.”

The door opened behind you as your brother stuck his head out. “Oi, I know you’re trying to dodge me brat–”

He shut his mouth with a clack as he saw the other boys out on the street, all the more awkward as his scrutiny fell on them. Before he could say anything, you threw out a hand. “You know what I’ll grab your snacks! Just gimme the money and the list.”

“Nice.” Everything was shoved into your fist in the blink of an eye, but your brother didn’t hesitate in getting in the last word by scrubbing the top of your head with a palm, messing up the hair there. He didn’t let you spit back an insult as he slammed the door shut.

You then remembered that there were also two others standing there, turning to them with wooden limbs and an awkward smile as you started to shuffle down the path of your house to them. Once you were finally past the wall of your house, you pointed behind you. “I’m gonna go to the market.”

With those words, you turned around and sped walked away. When you glanced back, you saw them entering the house right next to yours.

The market–it turned out–was actually the other way, but you couldn’t bear facing them any longer. Though you did quite regret it later when you nearly tumbled over the bridge after being startled by a Yokai resembling a rolling mass of weeds.

***

Exhausting.

Human interaction was exhausting.

But climbing these steps in the middle of nearly summer sun? Also exhausting.

After the debacle outside of your house, your parents almost forced you to deliver the treats to the neighbors (which, by some very unfunny irony, ended up being Natsume’s guardians! Ha! What are the chances!) but your brother took mercy on you and bailed you out of the situation. That was why you were out here, climbing the seemingly unending steps to get to the shrine you remembered being there.

Long ago, when you were younger and your abilities were just flourishing, you made a promise to a spirit. The naive child that you were, with a heart too big for the world, promised to come back and free him from his shrine where he had been imprisoned. You didn’t get the chance to work on it, as you had to move away due to one issue or another. It allowed you to come in contact with so many other spirits and Yokais, a slew of experiences and promises exchanged that matured you into the person you were today.

Still, you never forgot the first promise you ever made.

His name was Madara.

He talked to you when you were a young, crying child, often seeking shelter in the clearing around his little shrine. His presence, although imprisoned, had warded off the spirits who followed you. He was arrogant and rude but still let you stay until the worst of the spirits were gone. Through many conversations and many visits, your young mind had latched onto his tales of glory, and when you had to leave this place, you had made a promise with him.

You told him that you would come back to free him, break the wards that had been too strong at that time. It had taken life much longer to return you here, but now there you were, various Yokai-given items in your bags in the hopes that they might break the seals. But as you reached the location where you remembered his imprisonment to be, you were met with a surprise. You froze as you laid your eyes on the sight in front of you, jaw dropping in dismay.

What once was a rope barrier strung up with zig-zagging shide papers was severed into two. More importantly, the small wooden shrine that was once there was nothing more than splinters of rotting wood on the ground and bits of porcelain.

“Ohhhhh my god,” you muttered, dropping the bag and sitting down on the grass. “It broke?? He got out??”

You muttered incoherently, flopping back on your back against the springy grass. All this workout for nothing, hauling a heavy bag up steep stairs. Though a big part of you wondered just who broke the seal. It was powerful enough to keep someone like Madara within the small area, so it must have been someone truly powerful to break it.

Your mind flashed back to Natsume, warm and glowing, but quickly brushed it away as you fully laid back to simply accept your fate.

Almost like a figment of your vivid imagination coming to life, you heard the pounding of feet on stone and the sound of Natsume’s voice.

“S-Sensei, wait up!”

You screamed as a doughy mass popped into your face, assaulting your vision with blurs of orange, white, and black fur. Reflexes brought your hands up to pull the thing away from your face.

“Finally! After years! You finally showed up!” A nasally voice came from the creature as you pulled it off. In your hands was what seemed to be an immensely round feline–wait.

You glanced at the cat.

You glanced at the remnants of the shrine, fragments of porcelain there. If you looked closely, you could see faded paint on it. An eye here, a whisker there.

You glanced at Natsume, connecting the dots and startling to your feet in a move that made the boy flinch and the cat in your arms meow in displeasure.

“You freed him?!?!”

“He did not!” Madara squawked angrily in your hold, wiggling back and forth. “The foolish boy tripped and ripped through my barriers. I took care of freeing myself thank you very much!”

Natsume rapidly switched his attention between you and Madara. “D-Do you know each other??? Nyanko-sensei is this why you were so insistent on coming here???”

Nyanko-sensei? Was that the name that he was called now?

You fought to reign in your hysterical laughter as the spirit bucked himself indignantly out of your grip. Kicking you in the chest with surprising force for such a blobby form.

“I can’t believe it! Wow! You actually freed him!”

Seeing the boy slowly backing away like he was about to bolt, the cat meowed, “Natsume, this is the brat I was waiting on! The one I said made a promise to free me.”

Seeing the boy’s confused expression, you reigned in your emotions and filled in the blanks. “When I was younger, I sought out this place as shelter. His aura and the seals were strong enough to ward off the Yokais that followed me. As thanks, I told him that I would free him when I got stronger. But I didn’t think you’d come to free him before me!”

The flighty look on his face was replaced by a tentative hoe, so achingly raw on his open face. “So it’s you… You can see them too, then…”

You nodded, taking a seat on the grass and indicating for him to do the same. Nyanko-sensei didn’t hesitate in jumping into your lap. Your stomach rumbled, and you dragged your backpack closer to rummage through it for the food you packed. “Among other things. My sight has always been abe to detect… more. I can see spirits and any distinct auras in humans that indicate their powers.”

He seemed fascinated by your words, barely noticing the sandwich that you decided to discreetly shove into his hands. “What do you mean?”

“You have an incredible amount of power, Natsume,” Nyanko replied for you. “This one was probably drooling over you the first time you two met.”

His crass words made you flail, dislodging the cat. “N-No it’s not like that! I’ve just–It’s just that you shine so brightly that I couldn’t help noticing you!”

Recognition flashed in his eyes as he let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, leaning back to prop up on his arms. He was still holding the sandwich. “Was that why you froze in front of the class?”

Being reminded of the incident made you groan, unwrapping your food to take a big bite out of it. “Don’t remind me about it… That was so embarrassing.”

He smiled at you, a soft, gentle thing. “No. It makes sense now…” His pondering turned into confusion when he finally registered the item in his hand. “Huh..?”

You looked away, pointedly taking another bite of yours. “I brought it along just in case. I always pack extra food for anybody who might want it. It’s… about time for lunch anyways.”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Madara yapped, beginning to root for the paper-wrapped food. “Natsume if you don’t want it, I’ll take it!”

The boy leaned away, sticking his sandwich up into the air out of the Yokai’s reach. “No way, Sensei! You ate almost half of my breakfast this morning I’m not giving you this.”

“Madara can have half you mine,” you said, splitting your sandwich into two. You paused, upon their silence, glancing between them. “Yokais aren’t allergic to anything right?”

“Uh-Uh, no… I didn’t expect you to call him Madara. I call him Nyanko-Sensei”

“Hmph, it’s because this one has marginally more respect for truly power beings,” Madara harrumphed as he waddled closer to you. He settled down on the grass in front of you, expectantly waiting for the food so you put it down in front of him, on top of a piece of paper.

The feline wasted no time tearing into it, so for the next few minutes, the warm air was filled with the sounds of you three eating and the noise of distant wildlife.

“I’m… glad. To see another person who can see them,” Natsume murmured quietly, tossing a bit of his sandwich to Madara despite his rejection earlier.

“Yeah…I’ve never met another person who had abilities like mine. I’m glad you’re the first.”

So in that little clearing, you allowed yourself to bask in the warmth of both the sun above you and its incarnate in the boy next to you. From the way you saw him interact with Madara, he has nothing but kind intentions. He talked and dealt with the spirit with an ease that you had. It allowed you to relax, eyes drooping in a haze of sleepiness. Though this was the first promise you didn’t fulfill for a Yokai, you didn’t mind. Based on Madara’s content purring, ti didn’t seem like he did either.

Natsume Takashi was so incredibly warm. Radiant and glowing and suffusing the air environment with an air that was so distinctly him. Even with the short time you’ve known him, you couldn’t ask for a better person to have freed Madara. You hoped he wouldn’t mind you becoming a part of his life.

You let out a content sigh.

It was a beautiful sunny day.

#masterlist #natsuyuu posting #natsume week #natsume yuujinchou x reader #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #gender neutral reader #fanfiction #natsume yuujinchou oneshot #natsume's book of friends oneshot #natsume's book of friends x reader #reader is an awkward gangly teen LMAO

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southerntchiorny · 2 years ago

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@likesplatterpaint Reminded me that I was supposed to write a short spooky story about our creepy encounter. Just a quick snippet so it’s not much but an attempt has been made!

The moon hangs full and bright over a dense patch of pine trees on a low hill. The blanket of darkness thinned by her silver light. A chorus of crickets, tree frogs, and a lone owl drift through the cool spring air. A door opens from the small house settled in the midst of it all and a giant mass of pitch black fur bursts forth onto the slightly overgrown yard. “Don’t go too far, buddy. Keep an eye on the littles.”

The beast ambles away through the yard, hearing his owner but on a very important mission of marking his territory and checking for new smells. He briefly looks back to see two other small dogs on their own missions of relief before it would be time for bed. His hairless brother darting back and forth chasing beetles while his fluffy sister picked her way around the driveway with the air of a high class lady.

Deciding that they were fine, he went a little further off down the wide path between trees where the power line stretched for miles unhindered by the reach of pesky branches. He snuffled through the tall dry grass here inspecting each ant hill and fallen tree limb. Ah, it seems the deer had been by not too long ago. As well as that damned armadillo that he got so close to catching, but his owner had scolded him for tormenting the armored creature. If it had armor, then what was the harm in a little bit of rough housing? These silly humans and their “logic”.

The giant dog suddenly froze when a new scent caught his attention. It wasn’t like anything he had encountered before. A sour odor that reeked of wet earth and long forgotten bones. A sharp chill ran up his spine making his hackles raise in uncertainty. Make no mistake! He was a noble breed raised for Russian winters and a bravery necessary for a soldier. But whatever this was… it was wrong.

A shrill screech rang out from the line of tall pines separating the paved road from his current path. He stood stock still, every sense on high alert looking for the slightest hint of whatever had made such a haunting noise. The call continued to beckon him forth, attempting to lure him closer through sheer curiosity. The dog made no such move.

If only he could see through the brush of briar and dried grass more clearly. Curse his damned long facial hair. Maybe just a little closer. Just so he would know what kind of threat he was dealing with. Were those claws or the thick thorns of a Devil’s walking stick? Was that matted hair or Spanish moss? Glowing yellow eyes or a stray cluster of fireflies? He just needed to get closer…

“Kaiju! C’mon buddy, it’s time for bed!” The sudden call snapped him out of the trance he found himself under. He whirled back toward the house and thundered across the grass as fast as his legs would take him. As his feet hit the planks of the front porch, he turned back to look behind him.

….Nothing. Just the cool dark air and the hoot of an owl. A gentle hand tousled the hair on his head and he looked up to find his owner looking tensely at the same spot he had run away from. “Let’s get inside, Juju. I didn’t like that noise either.” She stepped through the doorway and held it open for her brave guardian. He huffed at the darkness and followed her inside. Whatever it had been, he hoped it moved along to hunt something else.

#writing #creative writing #Kaiju #spoopy

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fwl22 · 1 year ago

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A Storm and a Flood, pt. 1

8 November, 2023

I was writing to our friend in Los Angeles last Thursday afternoon, responding to a message she had sent inquiring about the state of affairs in Tuscany and Italy, in general, given reports of bad weather and flooding. Some of you may recall that this past summer the Emilia Romagna region was hit with unseasonable late spring and summer rain that flooded vast areas of the flat, low lying areas and washed out roads and homes in the more mountainous areas. Francesca had to work around the problems this created for some train lines going southeast from Bologna to the Adriatic coast where she had to work.

In the last few weeks there has been a number of storms that have brought rain on the northern part of Tuscany where Prato sits nestled up against the Calvana hills (calva means bald in Italian, so it signifies that these hills have no trees on top) and close to the Apennine range that runs northwest to southeast across the country. Autumn rain is pretty usual, and as the olive picking season begins in mid to late October, the concern is always for getting the fruit picked before a big storm, or waiting after a storm to allow things to dry. This year we had a couple of short intense storms that brought rain on us, and it so happened that twice during these downpours the power went out for a bit. The first time it took the electric company several hours to restore the service. They had to drive out to the village to open up the old switch box to set things right.

Through my kids I was aware that a large storm was on the way this last weekend, but here in Prato there was little warning or announcement that anything unusual was expected. So we all went about our business as usual. We were lucky that our friend and contractor had sealed the skylight window above the stairs in the Paolo and Giovanna’s house so that the rain wouldn’t drip down inside anymore, and I had cleared the rain gutters on the upper corner where I could reach to make sure there would be as little overflow as possible. Our friend Monica, who I met in Los Angeles almost 35 years ago and now lives in the Val d’Elsa, came to Prato on Thursday morning to drop off her pet bunny rabbit at the kennel in Prato where she always does when she is going off on a trip. I picked her up at the train station and we ran out to the Villa Fiorita area near Figline on the other side of the Bisenzio from Villa Rucellai, dropped off Bambi the bunny, and then we had lunch in the big kitchen.

It was a gray day, and it was drizzling in the morning, but it was not particularly cold. As we finished our coffee after lunch Monica suggested we go for a walk, but we found that the rain was getting stronger, and while it wasn’t enough to keep us from a quick turn among the olive trees, the wet weather from the previous week had made the ground a bit muddy, so we didn’t go. I took Monica back to the train station and she caught her ride back to Firenze Rifredi where she would change for a train for Empoli and home to Castelfiorentino. It was already a sign of things to come (although not totally clear because trains around here can often run late due to work along the rails) that at 2:30, Monica caught the train that had been expected at 2:00. The train she expected to catch at 2:45 was going to be 50 minutes late. My wife was expected to arrive at 9:00 that evening coming from Lugano by way of Milan, so I sent her a message to let her know that many of the trains were delayed and to be ready for a long journey. As I drove back to Canneto, I went to the market to get milk and bread for the weekend, and the rain began to fall more steadily. Since the clocks had fallen back only recently, I was still getting to how dark it got seemingly so early in the day. The day before was the feast of All Saints, and I had been outside at the cemetery of Canneto with my wife’s cousin and my brother in law. By 5:30 things were pretty dark outside and the street lights had been on for 20 minutes or so. Only after the sun went down did we begin to feel a faint bit of cold, and it was more due to the wetness of everything than the air temperature. So I was very happy to be inside the house as the rain began to fall more steadily. My wife sent me a text to let me know that she would really love to have a salad fresh from the garden when she arrived, but I told her that it was raining and I was reluctant to go out. In fact, at that moment it was suddenly really coming down, a downpour similar to what we had had a week before, and looking out the window it appeared like a fog. Then the power went out.

It is important to note that the frantoio (the olive oil mill) was hard at work making olive oil. As different people’s loads of olive paste enter the large separator centrifuge, the machine is paused and when it begins to spin again, you can feel the vibration through the building and the lights in the big kitchen will make a reflexive dimming as an electric load goes toward the work. When the frantoio is working there is a constant hum from the machinery that you can feel and hear, and when the power goes off, there is sudden silence. The white noise drops out and all the other sound comes up.

After I lit a few candles, I noticed in the twilight outside that the rain had slowed and almost stopped. The downpour was slowing, but the accumulated water was flowing across the piazzale like a river flowing. The urge came decisively that it was the only moment to go to the garden to get some salad for my wife. The lull in the storm was only going to last so long.

#Villa Rucellai #Prato #Tuscany #olive oil

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unfavorableinstigation · 1 year ago

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Just finished the actual storyline (what there is of it) to Planet Crafter last night. Overall impressions in extremely jumbled order because I can't figure out how to make Tumblr let me reorder bullets, spoilers under the cut:

All the people complaining in the ship messages about being stranded on this horrible hostile planet where all the evil meteor showers happen are whiny little babies. You wash up on the Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs planet and you are bitching about getting hit with croutons. The only message-er I have any sympathy for is the other planet crafter who does not live on Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs Planet and doesn't have any resources.

The game being in early access means the walls of your living quarters are sort of spasmodically permeable. Having meteors occasionally clipping through the walls is whatever, an expected part of early-access, but I actually kind of like the feel when the trees start growing and do the same - my terraforming is going so well that nature is intruding on my spaces! Muahahaha!

I adore the fact that bees don't seem to notice the walls at all and just sort of hang out in my house with me. We are friends and we love each other.

The appliances and stuff are just big boxes with texture right now, I think, which leads to the Amazing Flying Larvae Circus when they spawn on top of a box in a place that isn't actually part of the object. Not quite as good as my pet bees, but still a fun early-access artifact.

These gorgeous blue-purple flowers start growing wild at a certain terraforming stage and I want them.

I have no idea why, but the story being in exactly the same 'alpha' stage as the rest of the game threw me more than I think it should have - there's a lot of very cool stuff there that hasn't been fully fleshed out yet. I think maybe because I don't trust the wider world to pay as much attention to a cohesive story as to the rest of the game?

The visual design on the ancient alien lore updates is cohesive, and absolutely gorgeous. I could write an essay about this game's use of the colour blue.

I also want to be able to grow the ivy that's everywhere in the ancient ruins. I think it would be cool to have a mechanic somewhat similar to the terra trading rocket, but for recreating some of the ancient alien stuff. There's a definite sense that the player is caught between these two worlds and I'd love for the end result of the fully terraformed planet to be able to reflect that - possibly to require it?

Riley,mybestfriendRiley, who sends me international aid crates like the American government parachuting in beavers... who is Riley? Do they have anything to do with my conviction? For that matter, what was I convicted for? Is my character even interesting? We know so much more about the alien side of this than the human.

Ancient alien lore starts with a banger line: "At first, we were struck by the resemblance." As you go on, you find out that the mysterious enemy the ancient aliens were fleeing are humans, and the aliens' scientists say our souls are somehow compatible and that's why we evolved similar bauplans?

If I ever write sci-fi, I will be on the opposite-but-probably-equally-obnoxious bandwagon of people that compare humanity to little kids that want to be in their own bedtime stories. "Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Angela" / "Once upon a time, there was a species called humanity"

Those who know me, know that one of my pet peeves in science-fiction is humanoid aliens. The compatible-souls explanation cooled some of my feral-ness about this not because I think it's a good explanation for the 'two humans' thing, but because it's really interesting cultural worldbuilding to have it be the alien civilization's official scientific explanation.

This DOES, however, lead to what I think is the accidentally funniest piece of lore in the game. The ancient aliens built some kind of defense device to drain power and block communications from human ships passing near the area, to deter them from expanding into this area. This means their scientists were either lying or stupid because their souls can't be that similar to humans. Anyone sharing a soul with humans as a species knows that device was the best possible way to ensure that only the most stubborn and annoying of humans flock to your planet in droves. [Malory Archer voice] Do you want Shackletons? Because that's how you get Shackletons.

#planet crafter #my closing notes are that i think there should be more frogs in this game.#you can find like 2 or 3 different kind of frogs if you hunt about #but i think there should be more.#the game currently rewards you for exploring with chests #that contain useful items #but i think it should reward me with more and different-er frogs.#planet crafter spoilers

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brickston69 · 2 years ago

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If only...

I cannot claim ownership of this story...but it is a fantasy that move me out of self-bondage sessions and into my dreams...an unexpected turn of events but what I've fantasized about since I can remember.

My new lakeside property was a small cottage – nothing too beer commercial-ish, but it would serve for weekends of partying and enjoying some time away from the city. I was lucky in that the lake was small and there were no powerboats on it. Most of the land on the lake, as well as the surrounding area was all crown land, so I didn’t worry much about trespassers or anyone else for that matter. The road in was a long dirt road that took almost 30 minutes of driving before it even hit one of the main back roads. My only neighbor was all the way across the lake, albeit in a rather sizable mansion that towered over the northern view of the water. I had spent the first few months fixing up the place – it was old and moldy but with a few weeks’ worth of work looked almost brand new.

It was about the start of June, when we had one of our usual Northern-Ontario heavy rainstorms. It started with huge gusts of wind, and was followed by a night of spectacular rain, thunder and lightning. The power went off relatively early, so I spent most of the night watching the thunder from my porch before I got cold and went to bed. I loved the sound of the rain rattling on the roof, and the thunder from inside my warm blankets.

Waking up in the morning, however, it became clear that the rain had been more fierce than I thought – there were branches and leaves everywhere – clearly the trees had gotten quite the shake. The power was still out, and taking a walk up the road, I could see that the power lines had been absolutely felled by several trees which had been completely knocked over. The was no way to drive over them either, and it would be several solid hours of walking before I would see another vehicle, let alone be in cell phone range.

Then I thought of my neighbor, his house used a separate road, and he might still have power. At the very least he might have a chainsaw that I could use to cut the logs off the road. I took a walk all the way around the property to his side of the lake. As I got closer I saw repeated “no trespassing” signs all over the property. A few hundred meters out, when the property opened up into a clearing, the huge looming mansion came into view. There was a van parked out front as well as a truck, so I could only assume that the owner was home, but the lights were all dark. Even worse, a large barbed wire fence surrounded the area. A sign on it read that it was electrified.

I followed the fence to the front gate and saw that there was a large intercom. I tried hitting the buzzer but no sound came out of it. I thought perhaps his power was off so I tried touching the gate. No effect!

Suddenly, I heard a strange moan come from the direction of the house. I looked around and saw a dark figure come stumbling out of the front door. It seemed to be hugging itself and walking in a stilted fashion.

“Hello?” I shouted.

Another moan responded, and as the figure came closer I could see that he was dressed head to toe in black rubber. He appeared to be in a black rubber straitjacket, and a muzzle covered his face. He “ran” directly up to the gate and did a strange little dance.

“Are you ok?”, I asked.

He shook his head, no.

“Do you need help?”

He nodded.

I opened the gate, and he sped past me, down the road, back towards my place. I caught up with him and slowed him down. I tried to unbuckle the muzzle but found that it was actually locked on! From the looks of it… all the rubber gear he was wearing was held in place with padlocks. I struggled to see if I could open it, but to no avail.

“Its locked – are there keys inside?”

He shook his head violently. I could see panic in the eyes, this guy really wanted out.

“Ok… I might have some tools back at my place, are you ok to go in there?”

The rubber guy nodded quickly.

I brought him into the cottage and quickly shut the door behind me. I took a brief look outside but no one seemed to be around. I guided him to a chair and sat him down. I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and said: “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The second my hand touched the rubber I noticed how smooth it felt and I suddenly was aware of the odor of latex just steaming off of the poor guy. I quickly snapped back into reality, realizing that I had been gently stroking his shoulder, taking in the texture, and that he was probably terribly frightened already. Being in such a vulnerable position, he probably would not appreciate it in the slightest.

“You’re going to be OK,” I said reassuringly, hoping that would ease him a bit.

I pushed other thoughts aside and ran down to the basement to find some tools. I opened up the toolbox and immediately found a pair of scissors, I held them for a second and then thought that maybe he wouldn’t want me cutting him out of that outfit, but rather would want me to get the locks off. No way would I be able to pick it, but I did have a set of bolt cutters that would work. I grabbed them from the wall and ran upstairs.

“Hold still a second, man,” I said. “I’ll get you out of there!”

I first clipped the lock holding his muzzle on, and unstrapped it from his face. I then unbuckled the ball gag underneath.

“Thanks so much!” he blurted out. “Please… get me out!”

“Ok… no problem, I’m working on it.”

I hastily clipped the rest of the locks running down the straitjacket, the ankle restraints, and the harness that I discovered he was wearing underneath it all. I piled it all on the table next to me. He stood up and stretched, the tight rubber creaking all around him. He pulled the mask off and I could see that he was no older than I was, maybe about 27 or 28.

“Please get the zipper in the back,” He said, and I unzipped the suit. He pulled his shoulders and arms out, sweat spilling out onto the floor. He must have been in there for some time. Gloves, boots, even rubber toed socks came off and were piled together. He stood before me naked, drenched in sweat.

“Thank you… I thought I’d never get out of there,” he sighed, sounding quite relieved. “My name is Cameron.”

“I’m Chris,” I held my hand out and we shook. “Have a seat, I’ll get you a towel and some clothes. There’s a shower in the bathroom if you like.” I came back a moment later with a towel and a set of jeans and a t-shirt.

“Again, thanks. Do you have a phone?”

I shook my head, no. “The storm took out the phone and cable. I was without power until this morning.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’ve been pretty incommunicado for the last month. I imagine there are some people pretty worried about me.”

“Oh?” I was burning with curiosity already, but didn’t want to push. “Is everything ok, I mean… well this just isn’t a usual way of meeting people. Do you live down the lake?”

Cameron wrapped the towel around his waist. “I’m fine – really. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I can give you a ride into town after you shower up, we’ll have to wait until the county guys get here to clear the road. There’re some fallen trees blocking it.”

Cameron nodded carefully, looking out of a nearby window. “That would be great. Sorry if I seem a bit sketchy.”

“No problem. Those clothes should fit you just fine – you look like you’re pretty much the same size as me. They’re just old clothes for kicking around in so it’s really no problem.”

I put the pot on for coffee and then saw him to the bathroom. He closed the door and the shower started running. Where did this guy come from? Obviously he was up to some kind of bondage thing in that outfit, and he seemed a bit embarrassed. He really didn’t need to – I had seen pictures like that on the Internet and was highly curious about it. He did also seem a bit scared, and that only served to deepen my curiosity. I had never even seen my neighbor and this guy didn’t seem to live on the lake. This raised the question if maybe another person was back at the house, also in some kind of trouble.

I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. Sipping at it I returned to the table and saw the pile of black, slimy rubber lying flaccidly on the table. I grabbed the suit and shook it out a bit. The suit made a low rumbling noise, almost a little like thunder. Sweat dripped out of the legs and dribbled onto my shoe. The scent of sweat and latex together was overwhelming, slightly sickly but inviting and familiar. I could feel an erection forming. I slid my hand into the armpit of the suit just letting it glide a little bit into the arm. Lubed with sweat I could feel the now cold, smooth rubber gripping around my hand and forearm, I felt as if I could just slide right in, it was practically sucking me right in –

I heard a cough from nearby and saw Cameron standing there. He was freshened up considerably and now dressed in normal clothes. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. I turned a bit red and tried to pull my arm out quickly as I lay the suit back on the table. Half of it flopped down but it was obviously stuck to my forearm.

“I made coffee,” I said quite feebly, obviously embarrassed.

Cameron chuckled a little. “It’s ok. I get it.”

He walked into the kitchen and found the coffee pot and mug that I had set out for him. He poured himself a cup. He took a sip. “Are you into rubber?”

“Well… I mean I’ve seen photos on the Internet,” I waffled, not sure what to say.

“What sort of photos?” he grinned.

“Photos of men looking pretty much like you did a few minutes ago,” I blushed. “Some of the heavier ones where they looked like the gimp in Pulp Fiction, I always wondered what it was like to be that guy.“

“Have you ever done anything with it?” Cameron casually sipped at his coffee.

I thought about it for a second. I had spent a fair bit of time perusing some fetish sites on some lonely nights, but never really thought seriously about it. “Well I guess that I thought that it was something that weird people did. Dangerous people. I wasn’t ready to find out the hard way that I couldn’t trust them.”

“Understandable…. believe me… completely understandable,” he smiled an odd smile, and sat down at the table, looking casually out the window, across the lake to my neighbor’s house. “You can try that stuff on if you like.”

I pulled my hand out quickly and it felt cold in the open air. “I couldn’t really…”

“Why not?” he frowned, as if I said something completely absurd. “Listen man, you can have it. All of it. I’m not going to put it on again.”

I should have sensed something was wrong, but my ears were hot and just hearing the idea of being inside the suit made me instantly rock hard. My cock was begging to be let out of my jeans. Seeing Cameron wearing my jeans and a t-shirt, the same muscular build, the same height, he was obviously my size, I would have no problem fitting into the rubber. I thought about how he looked when I first laid eyes on him, embodying a fantasy that I barely knew I had. Now the idea was just burning a hole right through me.

Cameron must have been reading my mind. “Look, we’re obviously the same size. Just go for it, I’ll help you out.”

I hesitated for a second, but before I could stop myself I was peeling off my shirt. “So… what is your story anyway? How did you end up here?’

Cameron took another glance across the lake. For a split second I thought I saw someone walking on the property, but I wasn’t sure. Cameron didn’t seem concerned.

“Well, I work at a bar in Toronto, I’m going to school part time. Pretty regular sort of life really… as you might have guessed I also had an interest in fetish and bondage. Just like you, I read about it on the internet and became a little obsessed. Mostly just obsessed with looking at pictures and reading stories.”

I peeled off my underwear, revealing my hard cock dripping with precum and picked up the suit. Cameron stood up picking something up off the table. “You should really put on the cock sheath. Trust me, your cock feels better in the suit surrounded by another layer of rubber. Here, I’ll help you out.”

The rubber sheath slid right over my package and tightened like a cock ring at the base. I bobbed my cock up and down once, and felt it grow inside. The rubber confines stretched around my member, looking sleek and black. Cameron then picked up the suit, shook it back out into shape and held it open before me.

“Climb on in!” He chirped with a smile. I put one foot in, and then the other. Cameron pulled it up around me, and I could feel the perfect fit sliding up my legs. An electric tingle ran up my body as it hugged me tight. “…so anyway… I actually lurked on a couple of the sites for a long time. I didn’t post a photo for almost a year, and when I did I immediately got tons of hits.”

“I don’t blame them. You’re pretty cute.”

“Heh thanks. You’re not bad yourself, man,” Cameron said as he tugged the rubber up onto my hips. “There really isn’t much of a rubber community in Toronto – from the internet it seems like it’s all in other countries. I really sold myself on the idea that I wanted to try experiencing a true, inescapable session of total rubber enclosure and slavery, at least for a little while. Really, finding sane people into that kind of thing is really hard.”

I slid my arms into the sleeves and pushed forward. The rubber came up onto my shoulders and greased with sweat started clinging to my chest. Cameron zipped up the back and the entire suit seemed to tighten around my back, shoulders and neck. I moved around a bit, my skin feeling more alive than I had ever known it. I felt ready to come right through the suit and knock a wall down with the force of it.

“This is awesome!”

“I know!” Cameron laughed. I started feeling myself all over. “Have a seat!”

I sat down and Cameron picked the socks off the table. “Trust me, it’s better when it’s all over you. If you like that – you’re gonna love this.”

Cameron started working the rubber socks onto my feet. He then slid the boots on. They took a minute to lace up as they ran practically up my entire shin. A leather ankle restraint was then buckled on overtop. I stood up, walking around, feeling it move on my body.

“Anyway, so I finally talked to this one guy online. Sounds like he’s a dedicated rubberist. He definitely had a ton of gear in his photos. Sounded sane and definitely wanted to get into a lot of the same stuff that I was into. So I arranged a time and place to meet – local bar, nothing fancy.”

Cameron worked the tight elbow length gloves onto my arms and buckled the wrist restraints on. He picked up the harness: “You want to try this?”

Thinking of the many photos I’d seen of rubber gimps that were clad in a similar harness how could I say no? I wasn’t locked in after all. I nodded my head. He held the harness out and I stepped into it. Cameron pulled it up and started strapping it on me.

“Awesome. Man, this looks great on you, I think it looks even better than it looked on me,” Cameron said, admiring his handiwork. “So I met this guy, and turned out to be pretty down to earth, used to be a doctor, now he just plays the stocks all the time – never loses. We met at a hotel a couple of times and he let me experiment with different types of gear, seemed really enthusiastic, and I’ll admit he pushed my limits in the best way possible.”

“Sounds great! Where do I find this guy?” I joked. Cameron pulled the mask from the table, and without asking stepped behind me and pulled it over my head. The feeling of it tightening around my face was indescribable. I felt my identity slip away. “I have got to see a mirror.”

“One second, you need a finishing touch,” Cameron grabbed the collar from the table and buckled it onto my neck. I felt instantly more submissive, like a rubbered thing. I walked to a mirror hanging in the doorway and was surprised at the black alien figure staring back at me. I thought I couldn’t get any hornier, but my cock just seemed to grow harder and harder. I had become that rubber gimp I always fantasized about. Well, sort of… no one was tying me up in this gear.

“You look really great,” Cameron exclaimed. Even he seemed excited. I was running my rubbered hands all over my body. I couldn’t believe the sensation. I wandered back by the table. A few stray pieces of gear still lay on the table, one of them quite formidable. I took a cautious breath.

“Oh, the straitjacket,” Cameron nodded. He picked up and held it up. “Maybe you don’t want to get into that. It’s a bit much all at once. You can kind of get into a bit of a frenzy where you just want everything on you at once.”

“I’ll say!” I laughed.

Cameron took another glance out the window. “What the heck right? It’s not like I’m going to go anywhere on you. You said yourself the road is blocked.”

I shrugged, thinking far too much with my pecker and not thinking for a second about the dangerous territory I was skirting. I held my arms out and he draped the straight jacket over them. He moved around the back and zipped up the rear of the jacket, and started pulling buckles on the back tight.

“Where was I? Oh yeah… so finally we meet one weekend and he gets me totally rubbered up, head to toe, pretty much like you are now. This was the usual for us by this point. Only instead of going to the hotel, we decided to go to his house, where he said he had more gear.”

Cameron pulled my arms across my body, buckling them in place. A strap came over the front providing them no movement. A crotch strap tightened on my inner thighs and there was no way I could get out of this jacket on my own. My temperature seemed to skyrocket and I could feel my own sweat filling the suit. I tried to move but all I felt was rubber grinding on rubber. I was positively elated.

“So we get up there and he leads me down to his basement and it’s a dungeon. I mean a real dungeon. If there’s a weird bondage contraption you’ve seen online – he’s got it. Most importantly it’s got a real cell and the door opens only with a key code that he knows, some kind of electric, digital lock thing. I was totally excited for a real bondage session with this guy; I’d been having such a great time. Then he starts talking about control, and taking total control over me, making me a 24/7 rubber slave. I don’t mean starting slow and working up to 24/7 – I mean he wanted to start at 24/7. I was supposed to be less than a slave – and that over time, we’d work up that.”

Suddenly I started coming back to reality. Why did I feel like his story was taking a turn for the worst? “Cameron, I don’t think I like where this is going…”

Cameron pushed me towards the couch, carrying the rest of the gear with him. He sat me down.

“Well, for starters…” He pinched my nose unexpectedly Instinctively, I opened my mouth. He forced the rubber ball gag in and buckled it behind my head. I tried pushing it out with my tongue but to no avail. I tried to sit up but Cameron sat on my lap, pinning me. He slipped the muzzle over my head and quickly strapped it all on tightly. I shook my head side to side screaming into the gag, but it was obvious that the sound was far too muffled. Cameron grabbed my chin and held it still.

“Shhhhhh… You see I didn’t want to be a 24/7 anything except being a student. It was way too much, but he never even gave me the opportunity to say ‘no’. I was his rubber THING for over a month, held in that dungeon. Oh, there was some horny times, yeah, but I wanted my life back. I had almost given up hope on the idea when the power went out. He must have been asleep when it happened. I think some kind of safety feature opened up the electronic locks and I was able to walk right out the door – and into your arms. This is the first time I’ve worn anything but rubber in all that time. Oh, and since you asked where you could find this guy – well, he’s looking in the window right now!” Startled, I looked behind me to the window out to the deck and saw a tall, muscular man, probably in his late forties. He was dressed like a biker but all in rubber, aviator sunglasses hiding his eyes. His face was cold and expressionless. Cameron pulled me up to my feet.

“Boy,” the man’s voice was deep and commanding. I got an instant chill. “Did you really think you’d get away?”

Cameron stood his ground. “Sir – I’m done. I don’t want this anymore. It was dumb luck that I got away and you won’t get me that easily again without a real fight. I’m not stupid – I won’t go telling anyone about this. I just want to go home and go back to my life. I’ll call it a fun misadventure.”

“You think it’s just that easy, Boy?” the man snarled.

“Maybe not. Maybe I’ll want to come back to you. I doubt it. I’ve had enough,” Cameron’s voice trembled. He too was genuinely afraid. Me? I was shaking. “I’ve found a replacement though. He’s hungry for it – more than I was, I think. I’ll give him to you and that makes me an accomplice. Then we’re both happy. You know I can’t turn you in, and I can leave.”

I started shrieking hysterically inside my rubber prison. I tried to make a break for it, running past the rubber man as he stepped into my cottage. He snapped an arm out and caught me by the neck. His other hand went directly to my cock and he gripped my still hard member.

“Mmmm,” he growled. “He’s horny. Very horny.”

“You see?” Cameron pleaded. “He’s perfect, Sir. Take him with you – he can be your new slave or whatever the fuck it is you want. I’m going to take a long walk into town, and catch a bus back to Toronto. You’ll have your hands full starting your training all over again.”

The man sniffed me like the bouquet of a fine wine. “Ok boy. You have a deal. Don’t think I won’t come looking for you. We have unfinished business.”

The man pulled a leash out of his pocket and clipped it to the collar. He started pulling me out the door, and down the road to his house. “Alright boy, I guess it’s you and me now. You and I are going to have to work very hard over the next couple of days sorting a few things out.”

I pulled as best I could but I had no leverage at all. What was even worse was that a part of me I think really wanted to go with him. Either way, I was about to find out the rubber horrors that lay beyond the dark windows of that mansion by the lake.

I was practically dragged by the neck all the way down the road. Completely unable even to look back to see the safety of my home quickly falling away from me, nor able to see the treacherous man that I tried to help, I could only focus instead on the house quickly looming over me. The windows of the house seemed black and empty, hungry even and I was utterly panicked but unable to fight in any way at all.

As we entered the front gate, my captor paused for a moment to shut the gate and flipped a switch. There was a humming noise and I could only assume that the fence was now electrified. Presumably it had been knocked out by the same storm that had affected the power at my cottage earlier. Even if I was able to get out of my rubber prison, there was at least one more obstacle that I would have to plan to get past.

We entered through the front door, and I only had a few seconds to notice the opulence of the interior – clearly my captor was a man of considerable means given the nature of the interior décor. It was a mountain cabin design, riddled with pictures of lakes, pine trees, moose and fishing poles – somewhere beyond the scent of rubber I could smell the distinct odor of fine cigars and mahogany. All this was moot however as we raced through the first floor directly to a large metal door opening to a cellar. My captor punched in an elaborate code into a keypad on the door, and it unlocked with a heavy click. There followed another such door at a vestibule before entering the rest of the basement.

There were only a few rooms with the doors open where I could make out what was inside. I one, I could see all kinds of restraints, as well as rubber and leather clothing, gas masks and boots. Another was a gym of some kind although I didn’t recognize all of the equipment. The man was huge however, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a very particular regimen. We stopped at a door that opened into what could only be described as a cell. Inside were only a steel toilet, a steel sink, and a bench with a mattress, which also had a rubber mattress cover on it. I was sat down and my collar was clipped to a hook on the wall.

“Stay right here, boy,” the man said, and walked quickly out of the room.

I could hear him shuffling with something down the hall so I immediately started thrashing about trying to release myself. It was to no avail. The straitjacket provided me with absolutely no leverage at all, and the best that I could do was feel my rubbered arms sliding about in the smooth interior. There was no way to generate enough force or violence to be able to escape. I was completely trapped inside. I gave up and sat back panting for a few minutes before he returned carrying a box with several items inside.

He first dumped several padlocks out onto the bench beside me and locked the restraints on my legs before locking them together. Another lock was attached to my collar.

“You are not going to be able to walk anywhere in a hurry and your collar is locked to the wall,” my captor said. “I am going to take off your straitjacket; if you make any trouble you will regret it very quickly. Nod if you understand.”

I nodded. This man wasn’t going to take any chances and I would have to wait until later for a slip-up. He unbuckled the straitjacket. He then applied locks to each of the buckles on my harness. My wrist restraints were removed but quickly replaced with a pair of rubber mitts rendering my hands completely useless. They too, were then locked together. He lit a cigar and stood before me, admiring his work.

“Alright boy, when you earn the right to speak, you will call me ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’”, he commanded. “I will call you whatever the fuck I want. As you may have guessed, yes, I kept your friend Cameron here for some time. He might have told you it was against his will but I can assure you that he enjoyed it far too much for it to be involuntary. From the size of your hard-on I can only assume that you are much the same.

Number one, I have fixed the fail-safe in my backup generator, so even if the power is out, the doors will remain locked. They will not open automatically as before. The electric fence outside will remain electrified. Furthermore…”

“Master” removed a remote control from his pocket and pressed a button. An intense searing shock came from my collar and I was instantly immobilized. I screamed quickly but the cry was severely muffled by my gag and muzzle.

“I carry this with me at all times. Now that the power is back up on the fence you will be unable to walk more than 25 meters beyond without it triggering automatically. I have it set currently to the medium setting; however, walking outside the perimeter will automatically trigger it at the highest.

I have always wanted to have the ultimate rubber companion and have for years thought about the training and conditioning that I wanted it to have. I had already started an aggressive program with Cameron, but he managed to escape before it took hold, thanks to nothing more than a simple power failure. I have already taken steps to ensure that it won’t happen again. And I’ll get him back here soon.

You might be able to escape from your restraints down here, but before you even reach the upstairs, you will be unable to make it past the electric locks on the doors. Do not think that I don’t want to have you upstairs with me – there is much that I want you to do up there, but for now this will be your world.

Right now you are only to be an object of pure rubbered physicality. Your body is mine to use and shape as I see fit. You are a pure Gimp for nothing more than my enjoyment and your training. I expect your obedience to grow. I will start small, and eventually you will be in a position to start obeying more complex commands, in which case I will start training you as my Pup. If you can learn the kind of devotion and obedience that I expect of a dog successfully then I may teach you how to be a Slave worthy of serving my needs, yet worthy of some greater levels of autonomy and expression, a chance to have some of yourself back. If you can earn those privileges you will eventually become my Boy, hopefully a rubber man who has finally realized all that I can teach and give him, and completely willing to continue to submit to my authority.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I am speaking of your achievements possibly years down the line and you have only been here a few minutes. I’m sure that right now you are terrified and alone – and rightly so, this is an incredibly fearsome first step you have taken and not of your own will. I have some further preparations to make, so there is no time like the present to begin your conditioning. Come with me…”

He clipped a leash to my neck and unclipped me from the wall. We shuffled down the hall to a room full of different racks, elaborate chairs, slings, and crosses. I was sat down into a fearsome leather barber’s chair covered in straps. The D-rings on my collar, harness and restraints were all clipped in place and additional restraints added on. All the while my mind was racing – he intended me to stay here for years – forever really from the sounds of things, and indulge in some perverse education of his? I wanted to cry, I had never felt so helpless before.

“Now, I am going to get a look at you. Don’t even try to speak or I will activate the collar.”

Master removed the muzzle, gag and mask. My head was dripping with sweat, it ran down my face and into my eyes. Master dried my head with a towel.

“Excellent. A fair trade for Cameron if I may say so. You are a good looking boy, and I must say that rubber really does become you. Good thing, as it is all you are going to be wearing for some time. Cameron had been wearing almost nothing but, for over a month – you should expect much longer before your skin touches anything else.”

Master ran his hand through my hair, frowning.

“This hair is far too long, though, and not something that you have earned. It will have to go.”

From nearby, master pulled a set of clippers and without hesitation set to buzzing all of the hair from my head, long locks of it falling pathetically into my lap. These were quickly brushed aside and he swept up. He then held up a mirror for me to see. I looked up to see a close buzz cut. I could hardly recognize myself at all. For a second I thought that someone else was looking back. He was right though, seeing myself bound completely in rubber my horniness came back with a vengeance. I’ll admit, I’d fantasized about similar scenarios, but the reality of it was utterly terrifying. I blamed it on blind nervous energy. I’d heard before about soldiers that experienced erections during battle for the same reason.

Next, he forced a gas mask with a rubber hood over my face. It was already lubed on the inside allowing it to slide directly on, despite how tight it was. Some kind of internal gag forced its way into my mouth. It was pumped up and I could feel the bit swelling in my mouth. Tubes fit directly into my nostrils. Earbuds almost naturally fell into my ear cavity and a white noise could be heard starting up. Master unzipped my cock and placed what felt like a large suction device of some kind up to it, with a slow rhythm starting to slowly jerk me off. A trolley with several TV monitors was rolled up in front of me and switched on. A sweet scent started to pump into the gas mask, though the air seemed clearer somehow. The screens flickered to life with videos of rubber and bondage pornography playing on each.

Master’s voice came into the earbuds.

“Just lie back and enjoy the show, boy. Don’t fight it. I will be monitoring closely. This is the first of many such sessions that I will expect you to complete, so try to adjust yourself accordingly. I will be back soon – don’t worry, I have your breathing on a monitor which will alert me if there is a problem.”

Scene after scene of erotic rubber pleasure played before me. The suction of the device rose and fell, never quite seeming to bring me to climax. I would get so close and then be denied as the system slowed itself down. A constant mesmerizing beat played slowly in my ear.

Even more horrifyingly, scenes showing removal from bondage, removal of rubber, or even normal sex, normal life were met with a series of painful shocks from the collar. My earbuds would play a harsh, erratic tone. I made the connection quickly – I was to associate only pleasure with being a rubber gimp, and a complete aversion to anything else. I was only to enjoy being his rubber plaything, and any other thoughts were to be pushed aside.

The first of many such sessions? How many is many? A month was not enough to keep Cameron from escaping and that was only after he was given a miracle opportunity of an elaborate security breaking down. Surely Master would be planning for this too – so how long would this phase of training continue? A month? Two months? A year?

The shocks ended and the slow jerking off began again. The cycle continued for what seemed like hours… how long was this to go on? I completely lost track of time and could concentrate only on the sheer pleasure of my situation.

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demonslayedher · 3 years ago

Text

I lost a bet to myself and paid the price by making another demon sibling AU. Was originally just going to be headcanons and doodles, but I wound up writing the parts I felt like. The names of Tengen's siblings are entirely made up. This will come in two parts due to length.

Clicking each bone in his spine, Yogen stood to his full height, taller than Tengen remembered. It wasn't uncommon to go long periods of time without seeing his siblings when they were on their own missions, but Yogen shouldn't had changed that much. "I'll spare you. It wouldn't do for the Uzui clan not to have a head. Now you're the strongest one."

"...Yogen..."

"I wouldn't had been able to take you on, if not for the fact that you'd never have done it if you knew. You should thank me, Aniki. You know what I've spared you? Father was going to make us all have a fight to the death. You'd have done at least half of this."

"What have you done!?"

"I ate them," he laughed, something Tengen had never heard Yogen do in his adult voice. He had the most infectious laugh when they were children, and this rang with the same pleasure, however dissonant. "I was stunned too, at first. When I came to, I had eaten two of them, they were still warm in my mouth, their cells already nourishing mine. But you know what? I decided to eat the others. I was going to kill them anyway, what difference does it make that I should eat them?"

Tengen's face pearled back into a snarl, his eyes flaring.

"One, two, three... Eizen got away before I could bite him, though. That whelp would had done nothing for me. The one I really wanted to eat was the strongest," he said, his glowing white eyes shifting down to their father's fresh corpse. "And now, even he's nothing to me."

Tengen could stand no more of this. "Yogen!!" he screamed and gripped one of the swords at his back, and charged at Yogen all in one motion. A hard sickle burst out of the flesh of Yogen's arm and caught it, but when Tengen pulled his other sword down through Yogen's shoulder and chest, the sound of ripping sinews what different than it should had been. A look over to the injury revealed that the shoulder was repairing itself before Tengen's eyes. When had he learned any technique like that?

The momentary lapse in focus caught him, Yogen swiped up against Tengen's forearm. It felt too varied to had been spiked knuckles--those were his fingertips, he had grown claws. Tengen drew a sword up to lop off Yogen's forearm, and then his brother let out a shrill scream as his features lit up and revealed how contorted they had become. Yogen didn't look human anymore with how his veins bulged and burned. Burned? From what? Tengen took a look over his shoulder to the sun rising and casting light through the wide open door, and when he looked back, Yogen was gone.

---

Tengen watched the flames consume the house and the bodies of his slain family. He had combed it for any trace of Yogen, but his brother left none. Hope though he did that the flames may consume Yogen too, he knew in his gut that he was still out there.

Behind him, Suma sneezed in a gust of smoke that wafted into her face. Hinatsuru handed her a handkerchief, as she and Makio were already covering their faces in case of poison. Tengen didn't bother, he was resistent to most ninja poisons, and the scratches down his forearm were already less swollen. "You three should go back to your homes."

"No!" insisted Suma.

"We're already members of the Uzui clan," said Hinatsuru.

"Your revenge is ours," added Makio.

Hinatsuru made the most important point, they were already seen as his property. He could hear whispers and feel them all being watched; the other ninja clans knew what had befallen the most powerful family, and the Uzui name was now shunned. Even if Tengen wanted to stay, he had no place in the village, and neither did anything that belonged to him. The only thing left for him now was to track his brother down and drag him to hell.

Someone else was approaching, and Tengen reached for one sword. Uneven footsteps. One didn't have the splat of a foot, it was the thunk of wood--a cane, or two canes? A leisurely, but determined pace. Self-assuredness, even for entering ninja territory. A robust heartbeat. Who was coming?

"Well, is that what you all look like? I feel like I've wandered into one of those storybooks," said an old man. He had one missing leg, a full head of hair and moustache to rival it, a grin, and a telltale scar lining the underside of his left eye. "I had always left your kind alone, but I couldn't when I felt the presence of a demon over here."

"Who are you?" Tengen asked, stetching one arm before his wives while the other hand stayed at his weapon.

"You didn't chop its head off, did you, ninja boy? It's long gone by now, you know. It'll hide from daylight. Be even more trouble to find if it's one of your folk."

"How do you know about us?" Makio shot back.

"How do you children not know about demons? Aye," the old man huffed to himself as he set down a stool he carried. He planted his rump on it, then folded his arms. "The name's Kuwajima Jigoro, former Roaring Pillar of the Demon Slayer Corp. I figured this would be out of your expertise, so I've come to help."

Tengen felt in his gut he could trust that. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head, his wives all doing likewise behind him. Jigoro seemed to enjoy that, but insisted they do not. Instead of bowing, he'd appreciate the ladies rubbing his shoulders to display their gratitude, he said.

While Hinatsuru and Makio set about at each arm, Suma kneeled at his remaining foot with a gasp. "Aren't old people not supposed to be this beefy?"

"Can it, Suma!" chided Makio.

Hinatsuru said nothing, but could feel something was different in this man, not only in his physique. Whatever he had to say was going to change their lives more than the previous night already had. They all listened carefully as Jigoro orated about the existence of demons, how they eat humans, how they are near impossible to kill, but also the methods of those who hunt them, with specialized blades and an organization to support them. As he began describing Breath, however, Tengen stopped him. "I already know all that, that's ninjutsu basics. That's not giving me anything I don’t already have."

"Oh? I figured as much. Always made me curious about you pups. So you you've got the basics of Breath technique, huh?"

"It's beyond basic," he shot him an annoyed frown.

"I'll be the judge of that. See that tree over there? That's probably about the strength of the usual demon neck. Go hog wild on it." As much as showing off was against the ninja code, Tengen wasn't in the mood to argue and made short work of that tree, the only sound being the pop of it seperating into two halves. Jigoro gave him a clap, then stood with his cane. "Good accuracy. Spot on. Now you pick one out for me. Take some mercy, though, I'm only working at half-strength." He balanced on his foot and his peg, plopping the end of his cane in his palm to show off that he meant to use it in place of a sword. Tengen hated when other people tried to be show-offs, so he pointed to a tree a few rings thicker than the one he had cut.

The old man eyed it, then slid his good foot through the dirt, and as he leaned forward, clouds of steam rose from his lips. "Breath of Thunder, Fifth Form. Heat Lightning."

The sound hit Tengen so hard that he covered his ears, and the old man was gone--on the other side of the tree, which was not only cleanly chopped, but split itself in half vertically as it fell. A rarity, Tengen's jaw dropped. Jigoro looked back with a fierce grin, knowing he'd have left them all impressed.

Rather than one knee, Tengen planted his palms and face to the ground. "Please teach me this technique, Master."

"When did I ever say I wanted a student like you? You already said you know Breath technique, don't you?"

"You won't teach him?" Suma sat straight up, little tears in the corners of her eyes.

"I only want students with talents I can mold. You're already set your ways and would just try to make Thunder Breathing into what you want. You can't fill a full tea cup, as they say."

Tengen wanted to insist he's do anything to take his revenge, but the old man was right. As he was, he wouldn't be able to unlearn everything he always knew, it was as much a part of him as every experience and memory, like every scar, such as the ones running down his left arm.

"The true nature of Thunder Breathing would escape you, you'd get too caught up in how powerful it looks. You're too flashy!"

His cheeks flushed. "Say that again."

"You're too... flashy? I don't think a ninja should find that a compliment."

"You can't tell him all that and then not train him!" insisted Makio. "Please! There's got to be something you can do! Tengen-sama works really hard!"

"Tengen-sama works harder than anyone!"

"Please, Master. Tengen-sama can think flexibly, please give him a chance."

"I won't! I can already tell he's not the sort of student I'm looking for!" he barked back, and Suma burst out into sobs, while Hinatsuru hid delicate tears and Makio's face turned dark red. Jigoro flinched at the sight of the upset girls, then looked back to Tengen. "I--I didn't come out here to leave you high and dry, you know. I already told you about the Corp, didn't I? That's where you really need to go. I can't teach you Thunder Breathing, but if you really think you can pick up something new, there's an old scroll I've got of an off-shoot Breath. Someone like you might be able to pull it off. What do you say, ninja boy? How about I give that to you and you teach yourself Sound Breathing?"

---

From there, Tengen took much the same course as in canon. When he became a Pillar and had his meeting with Oyakata-sama, he was upfront about his reasons for entering the Corp. Oyakata-sama appreciated his frankness and assured him that the entire Corp would support him if they found any information on Yogen, but Oyakata-sama was also keen on the undercurrent of Tengen's heart; that he was relieved to leave the murderous ways of ninja, and that he wanted to live an upright life. This finally gave words to something Tengen always felt, but thought he had no right to wish for. He and his wives were moved and they swore loyalty to Oyakata-sama.

However, as time went on, there were no clues whatsoever about Yogen. Around the time they all got antsy, Makio finally couldn't stand it anymore and suggested they may never find him. "Think about it," she said. "This Corp is full of strong swordsmen. Someone might had already chopped off his head long before we got here."

While that should had come as a relief, Tengen couldn't help but find the idea frustrating. That revenge was his to take. He could think of only one person stronger than him who might had done it, so he described Yogen to Himejima one day and asked if he remembered seeing a demon like that. Himejima plainly replied that he was blind.

As they began to accept that they may never have closure, Hinatsuru proposed that they be satisfied bagging an Upper Moon. That should be enough for them to earn their peace, she said, and as much as it grinded away at Tengen's heart, he agreed.

In the course of performing Tengen's Pillar duties, they closed in on what was likely an Upper Moon in Yoshiwara. Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma slipped in, but when he lost contact, Tengen went looking for some female Corp members to sneak in and see what was up. That's when he reencountered the boy whose head he meant to spill at the last Pillar meeting, as well as his two annoying buddies. Inosuke would had been satisfyingly flamboyant, if not for the fact that he was gross. The other whelp was named Zenitsu.

"You write that 'Zen' with the kanji for virtue?"

"Yeah. What's it to you?"

"Nothing," Tengen replied, never saying anything of it ever again. It didn't take long for him to notice that Zenitsu had ears on par with his own.

The boys managed to get in, and soon the plan went awry. Tengen's first encounter with an Upper Moon broke out, and that went awry in the most horrifically flamboyant of ways. Tengen found himself unconscious, needing to stop his heart to keep the demon poison from spreading, as it was many times more potent than any ninja or demon poison he encountered before. There was fire in the wreckage nearby, he'd be consumed if he doesn't move soon. In the odd space where consciousness was returning to him, his hearing reached into a deeper plain, where he could hear the most carnal thoughts pounding though the bodies of those around him.

Tanjiro was panicking.

No scent! No scent! Upper Moon Five--where did--but--no scent! No scent!!

Tengen could hear Upper Moon Six, in both bodies, but he couldn't hear any other demon. It gave off no sound. He struggled to look in Tanjiro's direction, and was stunned by the sight of a demon partway sticking out of the shadow Tanjiro has cast, guarding Upper Moon Six with a kunai stuck in his arm.

"Sakage!" growled Upper Moon Six. That is not the demon's name. "I don't need you here! Were you intruding on my thoughts?"

"I didn't need to. I heard the cacophony from ages away. You wouldn't had seen wisteria coming anyway."

Upper Moon Six looked to the kunai, while Tanjiro panicked that the poison had no effect on the newly arrived demon.

"Quit with all the fuss. I'd appreciate it if you hurry up and silence that Pillar over there," he turned his glance to Tengen. His eyes had writing in them, but that was Yogen. "I can't be bothered."

Yogen disappeared into the shadow as suddenly as he appeared, and Tanjiro fell forward with a stumble. He'd be a sitting duck like that, Tengen had to go save him, he pushed himself off the ground to--but--but his arm was missing--the scars were torn off-----

---

Yogen had been quick to learn some of the ins and outs of being a demon, but not all the finer details. He gathered from the surrounding demons' fear of the drum demon that the "Twelve Moons" were the most fearsome demons, closest to their progenitor, but didn't those other demons notice that the drum demon couldn't stomach humans as he ate them? That demon was weak, and Yogen wouldn't stand for it. He cut off his head.

It did not kill the demon, who screamed at him with the characters "Lower Six" in one of his eyes, but he shut up quick when Kibutsuji Muzan arrived. Despite warning Yogen that this was not how fights between demons were done and he should kill Yogen for acting without permission, Muzan smilingly decided to allow it, and instructed him to absorb the former Lower Moon Six and assume his role. Muzan did not care for how Yogen's name referenced sunlight, though. He renamed him Sakage on a whim.

Sakage went on to learn very quickly how to please Muzan, and how to climb the ranks. While not immune, he could resist wisteria poison, which Muzan was more than pleased to borrow from him and see how he could try to adopt it into his own cells. Sakage could move between connected shadows, and in spying on the Corp, he picked up on the hand signs the swordsmen used and quickly deciphered them, and openly reported so to the demons that outranked him. With hearing far more advanced that his brother's ever was, he listened to the information shared between crows, piecing apart their language to the best of his understanding.

Lower Moons Three and Two later, he used his spying abilities to identify his next target: Upper Moon Five.

Gyokko was startled by the challenge, and under Muzan's gaze, he could not refuse. Sakage made short work of him, and the other Moons all felt a chill. Akaza's chill was excitement.

Akaza wasted no time in chatting up the new Upper Moon, for Sakage likewise had a stated hatred for weaklings. While Sakage did find it a bit of a bother, especially since he knew he was a long way from ever being able to pose a real challenge to Akaza, he learned that the quickest way to stop Akaza from pestering him was to spar. Akaza loved to chit-chat even while sparring, though, and this became a useful way for Sakage to catch up on a hundred years of gossip about the other Upper Moons.

While it did feel they had somewhat of a friendship, one day they got on the topic of poison. "I hate people who use poison," said Akaza, between punches. "It's as cowardly and low as you can get."

Sakage, who could create a myriad of weapons from his cells as needed and always laced them in poison, was not offended, but disagreed. "I see no problem in being effective."

This gave Akaza pause, and an uncomfortable drop in his stomach. He excused himself, and bothered Sakage not so often after that.

Muzan was typically pleased with Sakage, which made Hantengu tremble that the ambitious demon had it out for him next. When Muzan was in a foul mood after Upper Moon Six's defeat, Sakage was likewise in a bad mood for the annoyance he encountered out there, someone who should had stayed hidden away instead of bearing free his inherently show-offy personality by joining the Demon Slayer Corp, especially since he was sure to have his ears set to the ground now for any new sign of him. He was certain Tengen witnessed him. But, for as much of an insult as it was to the Upper Moons that Gyutaro let him live, Tengen wouldn't be much of a threat anymore.

Still, Sakage knew to keep his cool. He had news to report, and he was certain of his deciphering. When he declared where the swordsmith village was located, Muzan had no doubts, and sent Hantengu alone. "Now why couldn't you find that, after all this time?" Muzan smirked to Nakime. She, not being of any rank, could merely apologize. Sakage took no pleasure or pride in looking better than a peer whom he knew he was stronger than. Muzan's mood could never be sustained for long, though, and he very soon frowned back to him. "You've brought no word of the blue spider lily."

"My apologies."

"Aren't ninja supposed to have knowledge of these things? Weren't you of a high ranking clan? Go back and order them to search."

And, at that moment, a dangerous thought escaped Sakage's inner filter, it leaked though to his mind at the same moment it leaked to Muzan's: But I can't show my face back there.

The way Muzan's face bent with disgust drove more terror into Sakage than when he was still a human and first encountered the demon lord. He felt certain of a swift death, but Muzan let him be. Sakage was still too useful. But, Sakage knew he'd have to crawl back to Muzan's graces by providing something of more use to him. He had to unveil a secret of more value.

Tengen, who remained active despite missing an eye and a hand, was present at an emergency Pillar meeting. Tokito and Kanroji were bandaged up, and they recounted how the swordsmith village was attacked by Upper Moon Four. With two Pillars and a few other reliable Corp members all working together they defeated him well before daybreak, but not before discovering an ancient ability known only as "the mark."

As he was now, Tengen knew he'd never attain this. What bothered him more was how the demons found the village, so hidden that he'd have to put his mind to it to have figured out where it was. He could had resorted to old tricks to figure it out, whether that be silently tracking the smiths after their deliveries or flirting with the Kakushi, but what recourse would a demon have had?

'I heard the cacophony----'

A demon may have had ears that rivaled his own, or were better!

Feeling sure of which demon it may had been, he set to thinking of what he would do next. If the demon moved in shadow, listening for the Corps' secrets, what would be a bigger target than the swordsmith village?

Oyakata-sama!

"Uzui-san, are you alright?" asked Himejima. "You seem quiet today."

"You look pale," added Kanroji.

"I'm jealous I won't get one of those flashy marks," he lief without flaw. "We all know I can't take any demons on like I used to. Maybe I don’t belong here."

"Uzui, what sort of talk is that?" Iguro looked to him with his flamboyant dichromatic eyes wide, and brows knit tight over them. "This isn't like you."

"I've got a different sort of mission to go on, I'll see myself out. You all stay here and keep each other company discussing this."

"Then I'll excuse myself here as well--"

"Not you, you've got no excuse," Uzui forced Tomioka back to a seated position by pressing on his head.

In conducting his own investigation, Tengen set his crow to work investigating from the sky. What the crow learned, tracing a few leaks and scolding the birds involved, was that their mid-air communications may had been what spoiled the secret location. This confirmed Tengen's suspicion about Yogen's hearing. He had a feeling about some other spoiled secrets too, and in following up with Corp members involved in previous mishaps, he concluded that the secret hand signals had been divulged.

(Read the conclusion reblog here.)

#please reblog from the conclusion post thx #tw blood #tw violence #tw cannibalism

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drysuitdivingdrone1950 · 2 years ago

Text

MANSION BY THE LAKE

Chapter one- The Trade Off

It was about the start of June, when we had one of our usual Northern-Ontario heavy rainstorms. It started with huge gusts of wind, and was followed by a night of spectacular rain, thunder and lightning. The power went off relatively early, so I spent most of the night watching the lightening from my porch before I got cold and went to bed. I loved the sound of the rain rattling on the roof, and the thunder from inside my warm blankets.

Waking up in the morning, however, it became clear that the rain storm had been fiercer than I thought – there were branches and leaves everywhere – clearly the trees had gotten quite the shake. The power was still out, and taking a walk up the road, I could see that the power lines had been absolutely felled by several trees which had been completely knocked over. There was no way to drive over them either, and it would be several solid hours of walking before I would see another vehicle, let alone be in cell phone range.

Then I thought of my neighbor, his house used a separate road, and he might still have power. At the very least he might have a chainsaw that I could use to cut the logs off the road. I took a walk all the way around the property to his side of the lake. As I got closer, I saw repeated “no trespassing” signs all over the property. A few hundred meters out, when the property opened up into a clearing, the huge looming mansion came into view. There was a van parked out front as well as a truck, so I could only assume that the owner was home, but the lights were all dark. Even worse, a large barbed wire fence surrounded the area. A sign on it read that it was electrified.

“Hello?”, I shouted.

Another moan responded, and as the figure came closer, I could see that he was dressed head to toe in black rubber. He appeared to be in a black rubber straitjacket, and a muzzle covered his face. He “ran” directly up to the gate and did a strange little dance.

“Are you ok?”, I asked.

He shook his head, no.

“Do you need help?”

He nodded affirmatively.

I opened the gate, and he sped out of there, past me, down the road, back towards my place. I caught up with him and slowed him down. I tried to unbuckle the muzzle but found that it was actually locked on! From the looks of it… all the rubber gear he was wearing was held in place with locks. I struggled to see if I could open it, but to no avail.

“It’s locked – are there keys inside?”

He shook his head violently. I could see panic in the eyes, this guy really wanted out.

“Ok… I might have some tools back at my place, are you ok to go in there?”

The rubber guy nodded quickly.

I brought him into the cottage and quickly shut the door behind me. I took a brief look outside but no one seemed to be around. I guided my guest to a chair and sat him down. I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and said: “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“You’re going to be OK,” I said reassuringly, hoping that would ease him a bit.

“Hold still a second, bud,” I said. “I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy!”

I first clipped the lock holding his muzzle on, and unstrapped it from his face. I then unbuckled the ball gag underneath.

“Thanks so much!” he blurted out. “Please… get me out of this thing!”

“Ok… no problem, I’m working on it.”

I hastily clipped the rest of the locks running down the straitjacket, the ankle restraints, and the harness that I discovered he was wearing underneath it all. I piled it all on the table next to me. My guest stood up and stretched, the tight rubber creaking all around him. He pulled the mask off and I could see that he was no older than I was, at the most 27 or 28.

“Please get the zipper in the back,” he said, and I unzipped the suit. He pulled his shoulders and arms out, sweat spilling out onto the floor. He must have been in there for some time. Gloves, boots, rubber toed socks, even a cock and ball sheath all came off and were piled together. He stood before me naked, drenched in sweat.

“Thank you… I thought I’d never get out of there,” he sighed, sounding quite relieved. “My name is Matt.”

“Ok Matt, I’m Ryan,” I held my hand out and we shook. “Have a seat, I’ll get you a towel and some clothes. There’s a shower in the bathroom if you like.” I came back a moment later with a towel and a set of jeans and a t-shirt.

“Again, thanks. Do you have a phone?”

I shook my head, no. “The storm took out the phone and cable. I was without power since this morning.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “I’ve been pretty incommunicado for the last month. I imagine there are some people pretty worried about me.”

“Oh?” I was burning with curiosity already, but didn’t want to push. “Is everything ok, I mean… well this just isn’t a usual way of meeting people. Do you live down the lake?”

Matt wrapped the towel around his waist. “I’m fine – really. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I would give you a ride into town after you shower up, but we’ll have to wait until the provincial guys get here to clear the road, I’m afraid. There’s some fallen trees blocking it.”

Matt nodded carefully, taking a look out of a nearby window. “That would be great. Sorry if I seem a bit sketchy.”

“No problem. Those clothes should fit you just fine – you look like you’re pretty much the same size as me. They’re just old clothes for kicking around in so it’s really no problem.”

I put the pot on for coffee and then saw him to the bathroom. He closed the door and the shower started running. Where did this guy come from? Obviously, he was up to some kind of bondage thing in that outfit, and he seemed a bit embarrassed about it. He really didn’t need to be – I had seen pictures like that on the Internet and was highly curious about it. He did also seem a bit scared, and that only served to deepen my curiosity. I had never even met my neighbor and this guy didn’t seem to live on the lake. This raised the question if maybe another person was back at the house, perhaps also in some kind of trouble.

I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of joe. Sipping at it I returned to the table and saw the pile of black, slimy rubber lying flaccidly on the table. I grabbed the suit and shook it out a bit. As the suit made a low rumbling noise, almost a little like thunder. Sweat dripped out of the legs and dribbled onto my shoe. The scent of sweat and latex together was overwhelming, slightly sickly but inviting and familiar. I could feel an erection forming. I slid my hand into the armpit of the suit just letting it glide a little bit into the arm. Lubed with sweat I could feel the now cold, smooth rubber gripping around my hand and forearm, I felt as if I could just slide right in, it was practically sucking me right in –

I heard a cough from nearby and saw Matt standing there. He was freshened up considerably and now dressed in normal clothes. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. I turned a bit red and tried to pull my arm out quickly as I lay the suit back on the table. Half of it flopped down but it was obviously stuck to my forearm.

“I made coffee,” I said quite feebly, obviously embarrassed.

Matt chuckled a little. “It’s ok. I get it.”

He walked into the kitchen and found the coffee pot and mug that I had set out for him. He poured himself a cup. He took a sip and asked. “Are you into rubber?”

“Well… I mean…. I’ve seen photos on the Internet,” I waffled, not sure what to say.

“What sort of photos?” he grinned.

“Photos of men looking pretty much like you did about five minutes ago,” I blushed. “Some of the heavier ones where they looked like the gimp in Pulp Fiction, I always wondered what it was like to be that guy. “

“Have you ever done anything with it?” Matt casually sipped at his coffee.

I thought about it for a second. I had spent a fair bit of time perusing some fetish sites on some lonely nights, but never really thought seriously about it. “Well, I guess that I thought that it was something that weird people did. Dangerous people. I wasn’t ready to find out the hard way that I couldn’t trust them.”

“Understandable…. Believe me… completely understandable,” he smiled an odd smile, and sat down at the table, looking casually out the window, across the lake to my neighbor’s house. “You can try that stuff on if you like.” Matt indicated.

My heart skipped a beat! But I was too embarrassed to admit my lust for the gear.

I pulled my hand out quickly and it felt cold in the open air. “I couldn’t really…”

“Why not?” he frowned, as if I said something completely absurd. “Listen man, you can have it. All of it. I’m not going to put it on again.”

I should have sensed something was wrong, but my ears were hot and just hearing the idea of being inside the suit made me instantly rock hard. My cock was begging to be let out of my jeans. Seeing Matt wearing my jeans and a t-shirt, the same muscular build, the same height, he was obviously my size, I would have no problem fitting into the rubber. I thought about how fine he looked when I first laid eyes on him, embodying a fantasy that I barely knew I had. Now the idea was just burning a hole right through me.

Matt must have been reading my mind. “Look, we’re obviously the same size. Just go for it. You will probably like it as much as I first did. I’ll help you get in it. “

I hesitated for a second, but before I could stop myself, I was peeling off my shirt. “So… what is your story anyway? I don’t want to pry, but how did you end up here?”

Matt took another glance across the lake. For a split second I thought I saw someone walking on the property, but I wasn’t sure. Matt didn’t seem concerned.

I peeled off my underwear, revealing my hard cock dripping with precum and picked up the suit. Matt stood up picking something up off the table. “You should really wrap your package. Put on the cock and balls sheath. Trust me, your cock feels better in the suit surrounded by another layer of rubber. Here, I’ll help you.”

The rubber sheath slid right over my package and tightened like a cock ring at the base. I bobbed my cock up and down once, and felt it grow inside. The rubber confines stretched around my member, looking sleek and black. Matt then picked up the suit, shook it back out into shape and held it open before me.

“In ya go!” He chirped with a smile. I put one foot in, and then the other. Matt pulled it up around me, and I could feel the perfect snug fit sliding up my legs. An electric tingle ran up my body as it hugged me tight. “…so anyway… I actually lurked on a couple of the sites for a long time. I didn’t post a photo for almost a year, and when I did, I immediately got tons of hits.”

“I don’t blame them. You’re pretty dam cute.”

“Heh thanks. You’re not bad yourself, man,” Matt said as he tugged the rubber up onto my hips. “There really isn’t much of a rubber community in Toronto – from the internet it seems like it’s all in other countries. I really sold myself on the idea that I wanted to try experiencing a true, inescapable session of total rubber enclosure and sex slavery, at least for a little while. Really, finding sane people into that kind of thing is really hard.”

I slid my arms into the sleeves and pushed forward. The rubber came up onto my shoulders and greased with Matt’s sweat started clinging to my chest. Matt zipped up the back and the entire suit seemed to tighten around my back, shoulders and neck. I moved around a bit, my skin feeling more alive than I had ever known it. I felt ready to come right through the suit and knock a wall down with the force of it.

“This is fucken awesome!”

“I know!” Matt laughed.

I started feeling myself all over.

“Have a seat!” Matt instructed

I sat down and Matt picked the socks off the table. “Trust me, it’s better when it’s all over you. If you like that so far – you’re gonna love this.”

Matt started working the rubber socks onto my feet. He then slid the boots on. They took a minute to lace up as they ran practically up my entire shin. An ankle restraint was then buckled on overtop. I stood up, walking around, feeling it move on my body.

“Anyway, so I finally talked to this one guy online. Sounded like he’s a dedicated rubberiest. He definitely had a ton of gear in his photos. Sounded pretty sane and definitely wanted to get into a lot of the same stuff that I was into. So, I arranged a time and place to meet – local bar, nothing fancy.”

Matt worked up the tight elbow length gloves onto my arms and buckled the wrist restraints on. He picked up the harness: “You want to try this too?”

Thinking of the many photos I’d seen of rubber gimps that were clad in a similar harness how could I say no? I wasn’t locked in after all. I nodded my head affirmatively. He started strapping it on me.

“Awesome. Man, this looks great on you, I think even better than it looked on me,” Matt said, admiring his handiwork.

“Feels so fucken awesome.” I replied.

Matt continued, “So, I met this guy, and he turned out to be pretty down to earth. Used to be a doctor, now he just plays the stocks all the time – never loses. We met at a hotel a couple of times and he let me experiment with different types of gear. He seemed really enthusiastic, and never forced me into anything I was not ready for. I’ll admit he pushed my limits in the best ways possible. I just kept taking one small step after the other. I gave him my arm and he eagerly twisted it.”

“Sounds great! Where do I find this guy?” I joked.

Matt pulled the mask from the table, and without asking stepped behind me and pulled it over my head. The feeling of it tightening around my face was indescribable. I felt my identity slipping away.

“I have got to see a mirror.” I indicated.

“One second, you need a finishing touch,” Matt grabbed the collar from the table and buckled it onto my neck. I instantly felt more submissive. like a rubberized object. I walked to a mirror hanging in the hallway. I was surprised at the black alien figure staring back at me.

I thought I couldn’t get any hornier, but my cock just seemed to grow harder and harder. I had become that rubber gimp I always fantasized about. Well, sort of… no one was tying me up in this gear.

“You look great, really great,” Matt exclaimed. Even he seemed excited.

I was running my rubberized hands all over my body. I couldn’t believe the sensation. I wandered back by the table. A few stray pieces of gear still lay on the table, one of them quite formidable. I took a cautious deep breath.

“Oh, the straitjacket,” Matt nodded with a big grin.

He picked up and held it up. “Maybe you don’t want to get into that. It’s a bit much all at once. You can kind of get into a bit of a frenzy where you just want everything on you at once.”

“I’ll say!”, I laughed.

Matt took another glance out the window. “What the heck right? It’s not like I’m going to go anywhere on you. You said yourself the road is blocked.”

I shrugged, thinking far too much with my pecker and not thinking for a second about the dangerous territory I was skirting. I was about to cross that line. The line where I had no control and there would be no turning back.

“FUCK IT!” I yelled, “JUST DO IT!” as I held my arms out. He draped the straight jacket over them. He moved around the back and zipped up the rear of the jacket. Then started pulling belts and fastening buckles on the back nice and tight.

Matt continued, “Where was I? Oh yeah… so finally we meet one weekend and he gets me totally rubbered up, head to toe, pretty much like you are now. This was the usual for us by this point. Only instead of going to the hotel, we decided to go to his house, as it had his entire and extremely sizable gear collection. I was fascinated and eager to try more.”

Matt pulled my arms across my body, buckling them in place. A strap come over the front providing them no movement. He jocked me up in the crotch strap that tightened on my inner thighs, which got me even harder. Now, there was no way I could get out of this jacket on my own.

My temperature seemed to skyrocket. I could feel my own sweat filling the suit. I tried to move on my own but all I felt was rubber grinding on rubber. I was positively elated.

“I am really loving this!” I indicated.

Matt continued, “So we get up to his place and he leads me down to his basement, it’s a dungeon. I mean a real dungeon. If there’s a weird bondage contraption you’ve seen online – he’s got it. Most importantly it’s got a real cell and the door opens only with a key code that he knows, some kind of electric, digital lock gizmo. I was totally excited for a real bondage session with this guy.”

He paused briefly, “I’d been having such a great time. Then he starts talking about control, and taking total control over me, making me a 24/7 rubber sex slave, at least eventually. I don’t mean starting slow and working up to 24/7 – I mean he wanted to start at 24/7 but I was supposed to be less than a slave – that was what he wanted me to work up to.”

A shiver ran down my spine! Suddenly I started coming back to reality. Why did I feel like his story was taking a turn for the worse?

“Matt, why don’t I like where this is going?” I asked.

Matt led me to the couch, carrying the rest of the gear with him. He sat me down.

“Well, for starters…”

Suddenly Matt pinched my nose unexpectedly. Instinctually I opened my mouth. He shoved the red rubber ball gag in and buckled it behind my head.

I tried pushing it out with my tongue but to no avail. I tried to sit up. Facing me, Matt sat on my lap, pinning me. He slipped the muzzle over my head and quickly strapped it all on tightly. I shook my head side to side screaming into the gag. It was obvious that the sound was far too muffled, and we were far too isolated. Matt grabbed my chin and held it still.

“Shhhhhh… You see I didn’t want to be a 24/7 anything except perhaps being a student. It was way too much, but he never even gave me the opportunity to say ‘no’. I have been his rubber THING for over a month. Held in that dungeon. Oh, there was some horny times, yeah, but I wanted my life back.”

Matt continued, “I had almost given up hope on the idea when the power went out. He must have been asleep when it happened. I think some kind of safety feature opened up the electronic locks and I was able to walk right out the door. Right into your arms.”

“This is the first time I’ve worn anything but rubber in all that time. Oh, and since you asked where you could find this guy – well, he’s looking in the window right now!”

Startled, I looked behind me to the window out to the deck and saw a tall, muscular, bald man, probably in his late forties. He was dressed like a biker but all in leather and rubber with aviator sunglasses hiding his eyes. His face was cold and expressionless.

Matt pulled me up to my feet.

“Boy,” the man’s voice was deep and commanding. I got an instant chill. “Did you really think you’d get away?”

Matt stood his ground. “Sir – I’m done. I don’t want this anymore. It was dumb luck that I got away and you won’t get me that easily again without a real fight. I willingly walked into all this the first time. But now I’m not stupid – I won’t go telling anyone about this. I just want to go home and go back to my life. I’ll call it a fun misadventure.”

“You think it’s just that easy, Boy?” the man snarled.

“Maybe not. Maybe you are right and I’ll want to come back to you. Right now, I doubt it. I’ve had enough,” Matt’s voice trembled. He too was genuinely afraid.

Me… I was shaking.

Matt continued, “I’ve found ya a replacement though. He’s hungry for it – even more than I was. I’ll give him to you and that makes me an accomplice. Then we’re both happy. You know I can’t turn you in. Just let me leave.”

“Mmmmm,” he growled. “He’s horny. Very horny, horny as fuck.”

“You, see?” Matt pleaded. “He’s perfect for you Sir. Take him with you – he can be your new slave or whatever the fuck it is you want him to become. I’m going to take a long walk into town, and catch a bus back to Toronto. You’ll have your hands full starting your…. Training all over again.”

The man sniffed me like the bouquet of a fine wine. “Ok boy. You have a deal. Don’t think I won’t come looking for you eventually. You owe me! We still have a binding contract. We still have unfinished business.”

The man pulled a leash out of his pocket and clipped it too Matt’s collar that was now around my neck. He started pulling me out the door, and down the road to his house.

“Alright boy, I guess it’s you and me now. You and I are going to have to work very hard over the next couple of days sorting a few things out.”

I pulled as best I could but I had no leverage at all. What was even worse was that a part deep inside of me really wanted to go with him. Either way, I was about to find out the rubber horrors that lay beyond the dark windows of that mansion by the lake.

I was practically dragged by the neck all the way down the road. Completely unable even to look back to see the safety of my home quickly falling away from me, nor able to see the treacherous man that I tried to help. I could only focus instead on the mansion quickly looming over me. The windows of the house seemed black and empty, hungry even and I was utterly panicked but unable to fight in any way at all.

As we entered the front gate, my captor paused for a moment to shut the gate and flipped a switch. There was a humming noise and I could only assume that the fence was now electrified. Presumably it had been knocked out by the same storm that had affected the power at my cottage earlier. I could hear the rumble of a generator in the distance. Even if I was able to get out of my rubber prison, there was at least one more prison that I would have to plan an escape from.

We entered through the front door, and I only had a few seconds to notice the opulence of the interior – clearly my captor was a man of considerable means given the nature of the interior décor. It was a very classical design, riddled with antiques and art – somewhere beyond the scent of rubber I could smell the distinct odor of fine cigars and mahogany. All this was moot however as we raced through the first floor directly to a large metal door opening to a cellar. My captor punched in an elaborate code into a keypad on the door, and it unlocked with a heavy click. There followed another such door at a vestibule before entering the rest of the basement.

There were only a few rooms with the doors open where I could make out what was inside. One was a carefully-marked equipment room, in which I could make out several devices of torture, as well as rubber and leather clothing, gas masks and boots. Another was a gym of some kind although I didn’t recognize all of the equipment. The man was huge however, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a very particular regimen. We stopped at a door that opened into what could only be described as a cell. Inside were only a steel toilet, a steel sink, and a bench with a mattress, which also had a rubber mattress cover on it. I was sat down and my collar was clipped to a hook on the wall.

“Stay right here, boy,” the man said, and walked quickly out of the room.

I could hear him shuffling with something down the hall so I immediately started thrashing about trying to release myself. It was to no avail. The straitjacket provided me with absolutely no leverage at all, and the best that I could do was feel my rubberized arms sliding about in the smooth interior. There was no way to generate enough force or violence to be able to escape. I was completely trapped inside. Any resistant was futile. I gave up and sat back panting for a few minutes before he returned carrying a box with several items inside.

He first dumped several padlocks out onto the bench beside me and locked the restraints on my legs before locking them together. Another lock was attached to my collar.

“You are not going to be able to walk anywhere in a hurry. Your collar is locked to the wall,” my captor said. “I am going to take off your straitjacket now. If you make any trouble, you will regret it very quickly. Nod if you understand.”

I nodded. This man wasn’t going to take any chances and I would have to wait until later for a slip-up. He reached forward and unbuckled the straitjacket. He then applied locks to each of the buckles on my harness. My wrist restraints were removed but quickly replaced with a pair of rubber mitts rendering my hands completely useless. They too, were then locked together.

“Now!” he commented, “The first rule you must learn is that you can never masturbate again. You may feel horny and want to relieve yourself. Those mitts will not let you. Those mitts will stay on until you learn the first rule. Do you understand?”

I could not believe this. But I nodded affirmatively.

He lit a cigar and stood before me, admiring his work.

“Alright boy, listen up! When you earn the right to speak, you will call me ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’”, he commanded. “I will call you whatever the fuck I want. As you may have guessed, yes, I kept your friend Matt here for some time. He might have told you it was against his will but I can assure you that he enjoyed it far too much for it to be involuntary. From the size of your hard-on, I can only assume that you are much the same as Matt.” He reached down and squeezed my dick.

He paused briefly for me to think, “You also must know I have fixed the fail-safe in my backup generator, so even if the power is out, the doors will remain locked. They will not open automatically as before. The electric fence outside will remain electrified. Furthermore…”

“I carry this with me at all times. Now that the power is back up on the fence you will be unable to walk more than 25 meters beyond that fence without it triggering automatically. I have it set currently to the medium setting; however, walking outside the perimeter will automatically trigger it at the highest setting.”

“Obviously, I have quite the obsession with rubber. I have always wanted to have the ultimate rubber companion and have for years thought about the training and conditioning that I wanted it to have. I had already started an aggressive program with Matt, but he managed to escape before it took hold, thanks to nothing more than a simple power failure. I have already taken steps to ensure that it won’t happen again.”

“You might be able to escape from your restraints down here, but before you even reach the upstairs, you will be unable to make it past the electric locks on the doors. Do not think that I don’t want to have you upstairs with me – there is much that I want you to do up there, but for now this will be your world. You have to earn your way up there.”

“Right now, you are only to be an object of pure rubbered physicality. Your body is mine to use and shape as I see fit. You are a pure Gimp for nothing more than my enjoyment and your training. As I see eagerness and obedience grow in you, I will start small, and eventually you will be in a position to start obeying more complex desires, in which case I will start training you as my puppy dog. If you can learn the kind of devotion and obedience that I expect of a dog successfully then I may teach you how to be a Sex Slave worthy of serving my needs, yet worthy of some greater levels of autonomy and expression, a chance to have some of yourself back. If you can earn those privileges, you will eventually become my Boy, hopefully a rubber boy who has finally realized all that I can teach and give him, and completely willing to continue to submit to my authority. I guarantee with each of these titles that you earn, you will find yourself glowing with pride.”

Master continued, “But I’m getting ahead of myself. I am speaking of your achievements possibly years down the line and you have only been here a few minutes. I’m sure that right now you are terrified and alone – and rightly so, this is an incredibly fearsome first step you have taken and not entirely of your own will. I have some further preparations to make, so there is no time like the present to begin your conditioning. Come with me…”

“Now, I am going to get a look at my plaything. Don’t even try to speak or I will activate the collar.”

Master removed the muzzle, gag and mask. My head was dripping with sweat; it ran down my face and into my eyes. Master dried my head with a towel.

“Excellent. A fair trade for Matt if I may say so. You are a good-looking boy, and I must say that rubber really does become you. Good thing, as it is all you are going to be wearing for some time. Matt had been wearing almost nothing but rubber, for over a month – you should expect much longer before your skin is allowed to touch anything else.”

Master ran his hand through my long wavey hair, frowning.

“This hair is far too long, though, and not something that you have earned. It will have to go.”

From nearby, master pulled a set of clippers and without hesitation set to buzzing all of the hair from my head, long locks of it falling pathetically into my lap. These were quickly brushed aside and he swept up. He then held up a mirror for me to see. Looking up I was shaved completely bald. I could hardly recognize myself at all. For a second, I thought that someone else was looking back. He was right though, seeing myself bound completely in rubber my horniness came back with a vengeance. I’ll admit, I’d fantasized about similar scenarios, but the reality of it was utterly terrifying. I blamed it on blind nervous energy. I’d heard before about soldiers that experienced erections during battle for the same reason.

Part of my anxiety diminished. As my fear of being killed by this guy faded, the reality of my new life seemed to take over. Something, deep within me, was energizing me. I thought of POW’s who survived captivity for multiple years. Perhaps I could do this.

“Not bad,” Master said. “Normally I like a nice crew cut or a high-and-tight on my boy, but you will earn that look in time. For now, the tactile experience of a regularly shaved head will allow you to enjoy THIS…”

With that he forced a gas mask with a rubber hood over my face. It was already lubed on the inside allowing it to slide directly on, despite how tight it was. Some kind of internal gag forced its way into my mouth. It was pumped up and I could feel the bit swelling in my mouth. Tubes fit directly into my nostrils. Earbuds almost naturally fell into my ear cavity and a white noise could be heard starting up. Master unzipped my cock, removing the sheath. He placed what felt like a large suction device of some kind up on my dick, with a slow rhythm starting to slowly jerk me off. A trolley with several TV monitors was rolled up in front of me and switched on. A sweet scent started to pump into the gas mask, though the air seemed clearer somehow. The screens flickered to life with videos of rubber and bondage pornography playing on each.

Master’s voice came into the earbuds. “Just lie back and enjoy the show, boy. Don’t fight it. I will be monitoring closely. This is the first of many such sessions that I will expect you to complete, so try to adjust yourself accordingly. I will be back soon – don’t worry, I have your breathing on a monitor which will alert me if there is a problem.”

The first of many such sessions? How many is many? A month was not enough to keep Matt from escaping and that was only after he was given a miracle opportunity of Master’s elaborate security breaking down. Surely Master would be planning for this too – so how long would this phase of training continue? A month? Two months? A year? MORE?

The shocks ended and the slow jerking off of the milking machine began again. The cycle continued for what seemed like hours… how long would this go on? I completely lost track of time and could concentrate only on the sheer pleasure of my situation.

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lavendermin · 3 years ago

Text

would you mind | childe

pairing | childe/reader

word count | 1.9k

genre | developing relationship, light smut, complicated feelings

If ever there was a force greater than the ancient winds of old Mondstadt, it was that harbinger from Snezhnaya. All it took was one afternoon during your shift for him to gain an interest in you—a fascination maybe.

The Fatui weren’t known for a good reputation in Liyue, and it only made you a bit uneasy knowing his high ranking—a cautious approach to a stranger in higher power. You couldn’t deny him and you didn’t dare show disrespect for subtle fear of consequence.

Rumors of people getting blackmailed—or worse— from getting tangled with the Fatui spread like wildfire in the harbor. Though they were baseless accusations, they didn’t stop from simmering in the back of your mind. The ‘what if’ was a damning point your mind made. Rumors didn’t come from nowhere around these parts.

Though Childe carried a sense of danger with him, there was something about him that kept your nerves manageable. The persona he carried was very impressionable, maybe even a little irritating at times. He was a persistent one.

“Mind if I join you for lunch?”

“Sir… I work here.” He knew this, too, yet he always arrived at the tea house with the same line. Still, you were quick to tend to him.

Childe hummed, eyes grinning with him as he happily plopped down at the table you swiftly offered him. “I’ll take that as an opportunity. The usual, please.”

Just treat him like a normal patron, was a personal mantra to get you through a shift at the tea house.

You were just lucky he was well-mannered. It made dealing with him easier. There was something about him that irked you, but at the end of the day he was polite and never forced a conversation if you were busy serving others.

“You don’t seem to talk much these days,” Childe notes as he swirls the remnants of his tea in its cup. It’s nearing closing time and you keep glancing over at the clock as he makes no move to leave. He sighs dramatically, “I miss our conversations.”

It’s playful, knowing full-well you hardly ever speak to avoid trouble from your boss. Maybe you would blame it on the exhaustion of a long shift, maybe put blame on lack of sleep. The comment, however, still makes you break seriousness and you erupt in an abrupt fit of laughter you quickly fight to quiet down. Luckily you’re closing by yourself tonight.

The sound is melodic, surprising Childe as a grin grows on his face. Though your back is turned as your shoulders shake from suppressed laughter, he can see the embarrassed red at the tips of your ears.

Oh, so you did find his company entertaining.

Your back straightens, and when you turn around you’re back to keeping him at a distance with an air of seriousness. Nothing more than work and patrons.

Childe leaves after wishing you a safe trip home and thanks for the wonderful service, as usual. The briskness of the cool night air keeps his mind intrigued once more with the mystery that surrounds you. Duty in Liyue was getting quite boring, and he decided to indulge in figuring you out.

“Would you mind if I joined you for a stroll?”

The familiar ginger hair strode up matching your pace. In the bustling crowd of the harbor, his presence sticks out like the cries of seagulls overhead. Maybe it’s your paranoia, but you swear people make an effort to move away from your little bubble he now infiltrated.

Still, he’s a harbinger.

So you nod quietly.

“I’m just running errands. It’s quite boring.” The way his eyes linger on yours for a second longer has you averting your gaze. The smile he wears… since when did it make your chest squeeze?

“I’m sure not as boring as some of the tasks I’m given,” he chuckles.

“Paperwork, I’m sure,” you guess idly. The vague smile he throws you has something about it that sends chills running down your spine.

“Something like that.”

The chuckle you give him is a little nervous. You aren’t sure what tasks he gets but you aren’t sure you’re willing to find out.

“Feel free to join me if you’d like, then.”

And for the rest of the day he patiently strolls around with you around the harbor through idle chatter. From dock to dock he follows, offering to pay the entire sum of anything on your errands list. The unlimited financial power he holds both terrifies and amazes you.

From then on, his company became frequent on your errand runs. Many shop keepers at first got anxious with a Fatui agent escorting you around, but his bright charisma won them over eventually. Business was business in the end, and his tendency to let the shopkeeper ‘keep the change’ won the favor of many.

You forgot when exactly you stopped trying to shake him off altogether. Perhaps you got too complacent since there was little you could do. Some days you even enjoyed his company. Childe was a good listener on days when you were a little more talkative, and he would always answer with utmost sincerity.

Yes, you looked forward to his little greeting and chance encounters on the harbor. Part of you hated the fact that you got so comfortable with him but the louder part of you was conflicted with bubbling feelings for the harbinger. For months on end you kept those feelings suppressed in the deepest parts of your heart.

And then the storm season hit.

“Mind some company?”

The water dripped down your face, soaked clothes clinging to your form as you stood under a tree near the outskirts of the harbor. Your eyes were wide, doe-like as you peered up at the familiar voice.

“Oh, sure.” Your eyes drift back to stare absentmindedly at the puddles rippling in the rain. “I was just waiting for the rain to let up a bit so I can make it back home.”

Childe hums, his usual charismatic smile bright on his face. It’s a little dangerous, and makes your heart race. Addicting.

“You know, at this rate you’ll get sick by the time you get home. I say we just make a run for it,” he offers with a devilish grin.

The frown you give him only further amuses him. “Run? Through the pouring rain?”

“Got any better ideas?”

You sigh, the sound of pattering rain filling the silence as you weigh your options.

“Fine. Okay.”

He grins, and you surrender to letting the harbinger have his way in the rain. Through the streets you both run, footsteps cutting through puddles and crowds of people with umbrellas. It’s thrilling and you can’t help but laugh at how fun running through the rain is. You both look like lovers that got caught in an unfortunate circumstance, and your chest wells up with feelings as you watch Childe pull you through crowds and street vendors.

The storm is raging outside, rain pattering on windows that rattle softly from the wind. It’s soaked you both to the bone by the time you arrive at your little flat. The room is quiet save for the rain that relentlessly knocks on the windows.

The quiet sound of panting fills the room as you both catch your breath from running through the rain, towels draped over your heads as you try to warm up.

“It’s pretty rough out there,” Childe notes, looking out the window. “Any longer out there and the wind might have picked you up before I did.”

It’s wordless—the way you join him by the window to look out at a grey city. You give a silent hum as you finish towel-drying your hair. The expression you wear is serious, aloof as you’re unreadable in your thoughts.

Childe is the first to speak, his voice soft and sincere—perhaps a little disappointed at your return to keeping him at arm’s length. “I’ll get going then. Glad you could make it home sa—“

It comes as a surprise—the sudden kiss you give him. Your small hands pull him down by his shirt collar to meet your lips in a rushed kiss. He’s quick to return the gesture, his lips curved in a smirk against yours.

You pull away breathless, face a little flushed. The frown you wear is adorable, a pout almost. “I hate that I like you.”

Childe is at your lips again, a breathy chuckle rumbling through his chest as he cages you against the wall. “And here I was thinking I’d never woo you, what with you not liking the Fatui and all.”

You cut him off with another kiss to hide the heat rising to your face. “Stop talking.”

He laughs wholeheartedly, his body against yours as you melt against his lips. It’s needy and rough. The sounds of your soft pants and little gasps are washed away by the rumbling thunder outside.

And through the storm, you spend the night. Childe feels like he’s won—gained one step closer to knowing more about you. He wanted to know all your faces, uncover all the mysteries and unknowns you held. And through the night, he learned of your sensitivities, the little noises you made, and the gestures that made your heart leap.

He had you around his finger. But perhaps the same could be said about him.

Early morning comes, the light barely coming through the window to illuminate the dark room. From under a mess of sheets you stir, body sore. Your fingers graze over the blooming markings on your chest and neck.

Beside you Childe sleeps soundly, his broad back dusted in light freckles and scratch marks. The way he hugs the pillow makes his sleeping face look almost kid-like in innocence. You’d never think he was a war machine for an archon.

You push the sinking feeling away, and brush some hair out of his eyes. The featherlight kiss you place atop his head stirs him from his sleep.

“Mornin’. Here I thought you would be gone by now,” he mumbles groggily. With his tousled hair and sleepy smile, you find it incredibly difficult to feel annoyed.

“I live here.”

He chuckles at this, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you against him. You scramble to pull the blanket over your bare body and though he finds it amusing, he doesn’t comment on your shyness. “Would you mind if I stayed the morning, then? The rain isn’t letting up anytime soon.”

“That sounds like an awfully obvious lie,” you retort.

It’s hard to ignore the hardness that presses against your abdomen. The lack of shame on his content face irks you. Still, you don’t deny the way your body heats up once more.

“Your face is just so cute when you’re begging,” Childe teases, pressing kisses up your neck.

“Childe, sto—haah.”

In a swift motion, he has you straddling him. You can feel his hardness press against your ass, sending a shudder of anticipation through your body. The ache in your thighs tries to protest against the lust-driven haze clouding your judgement.

Childe’s hands are already massaging the soft flesh at your hips, hands waiting for permission. “What do you say, sweetheart? Another round if you can keep up?”

“Y–You have duties to tend to, don’t you?” you bring up meekly, eyes shut tight as he bites a sweet spot on your neck that hitches your breath. Slowly, your mind is losing itself, drunk on his attention again.

With a smirk against your skin, he answers simply, “They won’t mind my whereabouts in this weather.”

#childe #childe x reader #childe/reader #tartaglia #childe genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin #light smut #pwp #Childe being a hilariously persistent idiot #developing relationship #mii writes #drabble collection: coffee break for two #I’m going to punch Childe with my lips just you wait #fatui #liyueharbor

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80s4life · 3 years ago

Text

The Thought Of Losing You

Word Count: 2,507

Status: Not Requested!

Fandom: Lethal Weapon 1987 {1}

A/N: This follows sort of around the ending of the first Lethal Weapon film where both Riggs, Murtaugh, and Rianne were being tortured in separate ways. I know it sounds brutal, but trust me, it isn't that bad. AND! Happy ending! (Spent all night on this!)

Relationship: Martin Riggs x Reader

Summary: When a team is formed, Roger Murtaugh and Martin Riggs are solidified together once Y/N is added to the mix, squeezing in perfectly. Although very fiery and stubborn at heart, childish games and teasing became common place for sergeant Y/N and Martin, unable to let the other out-trash their own trash talk. But, when there is a complication during the final breakthrough of the whereabouts of the heroin-trafficking cartel, Y/N is separated from the duo. Only coming together when a kidnapping sends her in a desperate spiral trying to save the people she loves, especially Riggs.

Warnings: violent themes, kidnap, manipulation, torture, violence, language, attempted!self-surrender/suicide, 18+ audience suggested, read at own risk

Masterlist Lethal Weapon Masterlist

Prompts: #67, #68, #100 (from this list @palettes-and-prompts) & #6, #8, #17 (from this list @waiting-for-motivation)

{I do not own any of the prompts, credits to original owners above, nor do I own the gif below -> @leofromthedark}

Strolling around to the back of the supposed drug dealer's extravagant condo, Murtaugh, Riggs, and I engage in light conversation, silently noting and observing our surroundings. Stopping just near the edge of the rather expensive-looking below ground pool, Murtaugh and Riggs catch sight of two brunette women inside. Rolling my eyes, I expect Riggs to do something flirtatious, a painstakingly common reaction to almost every woman he lays eyes on. Every woman... except me. Yet, I pay no mind, Riggs' crazy nature probably too much for me to handle anyway.

Murtaugh flashes his gun, indicating to the women that he is armed. In a flash of a second, just merely after he had shown his weapon, the women duck and run from within the glass-paned wall, just in time for a man to blast a shot from behind. More specifically, the source being a shed occupying the space on the opposite side of the pool we resided on, destroying bits of its siding from the sheer distance and voracity of his attempt of subduing at least one of us.

But, we came prepared, although we were slightly taken aback, Murtaugh's swift abilities with a gun coming in handy as he lands on the drug dealer's right knee, lower thigh area. Splitting off, Murtaugh and I take either end of the pool's side, desperately trying to corral the person of interest. All the while as Riggs takes the women from in the house outside and to the nearest tree, in case of them being suspects as well, handcuffing their wrists together around the tree.

Once the task is done, Riggs hurries over to our aid, following our one, sole purpose: keeping the suspect alive for questioning.

Coming around the perimeter of the pool, Murtaugh reminds Riggs of this rule, replaying it to refresh his sometimes questionable mind. This, however, does not work in our favor as the man pulls yet another gun, this time a pistol, as Riggs had went to pull the man up.

"He's got a gun!" I scream, yet it's all in vain, as Riggs tries to act just as fast as his reflexes would've allowed, lifting the man's aimed arm as the trigger was pulled.

Yelping in surprise, I clench my teeth as the copper red liquid instantly encompasses the injured area, jerking as far away from the incident as possible.

"Y/N!" Murtaugh yells, instantly coming to my side as I go crashing to the concrete floor, catching my head and my left side as I now slowly lean into the ground below me, clutching the stinging injury to the right of my abdomen.

As Murtaugh had come to my side, Riggs took care of the suspect, unfortunately not being able to accomplish our sole purpose of being here, but overall getting rid of the threat.

"Cocksucker," he all but grunts, as he makes sure to shoot the man once more, pissed at the fact that I had gotten shot, although that fact being unbeknownst to me. "I'll call the ambulance," he all put spits out some time later, not making any attempt to check on my well being nor even making eye contact, stalking back through the side gate we had entered through.

//Some time later//

Now nestled safely and securely, I lay within the gloomy walls of the hospital, hooked up with some anesthetics and monitors, all for separate purposes. The stitches surely going to leave an awesome scar, only adding to my aggravation and exhaustion as the day finally settles and the slightest of movements constantly sending sharp pains within my whole body.

The doctors, coming in every so often, had reassured me of a discharge after the course of at least 2-4 days, only needing to ensure the proper sanitary measures are used and stitches being durable and strong without issues or tears.

Staring off at one of the four blank and colorless walls, in a daze, my ears perk up at the sound of a knock on my door, followed by Roger and Martin entering the room.

Handing me a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, I smile at Roger as he pulls a chair beside my bed, asking, "How ya' feeling, Shortie? How're they treatin' ya' here?"

Giggling at the nickname, I respond with an, "I'm doing just as good as I can I guess. It's not so bad here either. The nurses are nice, although they're all pitiful glances and meek gestures, coming in and out as quickly as possible. I guess bullet wounds aren't their preferred cases?" I joke lightly, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

Roger catches on instantly, having caught wind on Martin's rather uncharacteristically quiet sulking in the far corner of the room. Turning to look at him briefly, he all but shrugs at me as he comes up with no response or solution to his partner's unknown issue.

Checking the time, I make up an excuse, assuming Riggs just didn't want to be here maybe? "Damn, look at the time...It's almost 9 pm guys, don't wanna be late for Trish's cooking do ya'?"

"Shit, really? Come on Riggs, you know the ass whoopin' I'm gonna get? Let's go, minus well feed you too, huh?" Murtaugh says, getting his coat and squeezing my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic look that I swipe away quickly. Riggs just gets up, side-eyeing me once quickly, but above all, ignores my presence and leaves the room. With one final look from Rog, he shuts the door, leaving me to my boredom for the remainder of my stay.

//Some time later//

Having been discharged, Roger had caught me up on the recent news, and how they had left to finish the job a day before I had gotten out of the hospital, that being yesterday evening, and it now being a full 24 hours of no communication from them.

This had struck me as odd, given that they were very advanced in their fields. Finding the whereabouts was the last big hump of every mission, the rest supposedly coming easy. This had all changed as soon as I had stepped foot onto my front porch, a not left hanging slightly within the pocket of my mailbox.

The words shocking me to the core;

"Come to xxxxxxxxxx if you want to save your partners. 8 o'clock. Sharp."

Rushing to my car, I waste no time, pulling out of the driveway and to the given destination, the time being almost too close to the deadline as I preferred it to be.

Once outside of the destination, an old, run-down warehouse stands gloomily in front of me as I slip my gun into the waistband of my jeans. Another, tucked against my ankle within my boots.

I move quietly, staying alert as I enter the warehouse quietly, instantly hit with the cries of what could only belong to Riggs, my heart wrenching. A new feeling that I instantly push aside. Following the pained screams, inching closer to the source, I catch wind of yet another's set of booming cries as well, recognizing it as Murtaugh.

With this new set of knowledge, my heart does another painful flip, as the sheer terror now courses through my veins as if it was my blood. They were the toughest men I had ever known. At least that is how I had always felt, how I feel right now, but with their pained screams, it makes me feel utterly hopeless.

Drawing my gun, I aim it before me, right beside the wall I hide on, lining it up around the corner, my full intention at being able to at least shoot down one of the three men guarding one of my teammates; their identity unknown to me at the moment with the unfortunate dimness.

Taking the shot, I hit one man, the two now swinging to guard the area, looking my direction. The man held captured, Riggs, tied to the ceiling, consistently doused in water, making the homemade shock therapy increasingly unbearable with multiple relentless blows.

"Come out now, Little Rabbit, or I pull the trigger," a booming voice commands, me now peeking out from the corner to see none other than Mr. Joshua, the man we've been after, pressing a firm gun to Riggs' limp form.

Coming out from my hiding space, Joshua motions for his goons to grab me, now taking Riggs off the hook, and into another room. The room we are led to happens to be the room Murtaugh is in, his daughter beside him, both incarcerated and handcuffed. Moving Riggs to the chair beside the pair, he is tied down just as I am, the four of us now completely helpless.

Mr. Joshua, confident and prideful of his work, moves Riggs to the center of the room, starting his interrogation, answering with beatings and threats here and there. The cause: the information given by Hunsaker on his heroin-trafficking cartel.

Just as Joshua leaves yet another powerful blow, Riggs' strength starts to run low, just watching him making me squirm in my chair, wanting nothing but to take him in my arms and drag him as far away from here as possible.

"If you have to kill one of us, kill me. Take me instead, please? Just stop! Stop all of this now," I say breathlessly, doing anything in my will to get their hands off of Riggs.

"What would I want with someone as pathetic as you?" Mr. Joshua answers bitterly.

"Information. That's all you want right? You just want details about the business, you went through all this trouble, and for what? Just to kill us in the end? I know your type. You can't get off without getting what you want, and this would've all gone to waste without it," I respond, determined now.

"So, what do you want? To strike a deal?" I nod. "So, if I let them go, you'll give me what I want?" I nod again.

"Y/N no," Riggs says, now worried about what you're going up against.

"Shut it," Joshua states strictly.

"Y/N, listen to Riggs! You can't do this!" Murtaugh adds, now borderline terrified as everyone in this room is filled with the most important people in his life, all threatened with the only thing that could take them all away: death.

"SHUT IT!" Joshua all but screams now. "Fine. I'll take you up on your little deal. However, you fuck with me, I'm killing them."

"I don't agree with you unless you cut them loose right now, and I am assured that they are out of this building," I say confidently, yet shaking with fear.

He nods his agreement, showing a security camera view from one of his computers, watching as Rianne, Roger, and Martin are all led back outside, handcuffs removed, and all moved into my car, them pulling away from the warehouse.

Pulling the computer's view away from me now, he turns to me sharply, my gaze turning upward as my arms are still strapped behind my back, behind the chair. "Now," he starts, the voice strict like a parent beginning to question a toddler, "The information. What did Hunsaker tell you?"

Taking a breath in through my nose, I exhale through my mouth as I ponder my response, "Just as much as he's told you."

With this, Mr. Joshua lets out a scream, landing a punch to the jaw, my body leaning in on the stitches. Taking notice to my sharp intake of breath from the movement, Joshua uses that to his advantage, grabbing a knife, lifting my shirt, and pressing the cool metal along the line of handiwork. The only thing keeping my skin together at the moment.

"Let's try this again, what information did you receive from Hunsaker?"

"I told you. I. Don't. Know."

"Bullshit!" He digs into the skin, smirking at the cry of agony and shaking engulf my body.

"I-I don't know anymore than you do! Please! He was killed before we got anything from him!"

"Bullshit," he answers playfully now, dragging the blade of the knife wherever he pleases now, enjoying my pleads.

As he opens up my stitched bullet wound, he goes to start at another spot, the attempt being short-lived as a bullet wound of his own goes through his skull, the source standing in the doorway alongside Murtaugh with Rianne tucked under her father's arm.

Crying now, I sigh in relief as Riggs rushes to me, cutting me loose and lifting my limp body. Carrying me to the car, we make our way to the hospital once more.

During the wait and multiple switching of rooms, Riggs stays, waiting for me, only getting up once I emerge from the exit, patched up and clean. He smirks at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, leading me to Rog's car, taking us to the only place we find comfort; his house.

//Some time later//

Getting settled in at the Murtaugh residence, Riggs and I share Rianne's room, which was so generously offered as one of the youngest decide to have a sleepover with her.

Looking over at Riggs, he looks at me, covered in open cuts and bruises, dirt and grime, and, taking a first aid kit from Rianne's desk, I make it my priority to get them fixed up.

"What are you doing?" Riggs asks, tiredly amused.

"Taking care of you, it's the least I can do," I reply determined once again.

"Awww! Someone's got a little crush on me huh?"

"Hey! When I finish patching you up, I swear to God I'm gonna kick your ass for making me worry about you," I say jokingly. Riggs replying by grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer.

Locking eyes on one another now, I couldn't help but joke once more, adding a sly, "Is this the moment that we kiss?"

Giggling, he looks down, placing his head on my chest, murmuring, "I think I'm in love with you and I don't know what to do. I mean, I've been married before, and I- I lost her and I don't wanna lose you too- I couldn't live if you go too, I-"

Grabbing his chin, I tilt his head upwards to meet my gaze, "Look at me, Riggs. Look at me. I love you."

Eyes watering, he leans in for a kiss, my hands finding way to his hair, while his pull my hips into his lap, wrapping lightly around them. After leaning back for air, we giggle once more, leaning our foreheads against one another.

"I never want to ever feel the fear of the thought of losing you again, okay? So don't be a dumbass, Dumbass."

"Yeah, yeah," Riggs answers once more, leaning in for another kiss.

#mel gibson #danny glover #traci wolfe #lethal weapon #lethal weapon 1989 #martin riggs #rianne murtaugh #martin riggs x reader #female reader insert #martin riggs imagine #lethal weapon imagine #roger murtaugh #mel gibson imagine #mel gibson x reader #1989 #80s #90s

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diaperdrysuitdrone1950 · 2 years ago

Text

MANSION BY THE LAKE

Mansion by the Lake

Chapter one- The Trade Off

It was about the start of June, when we had one of our usual Northern-Ontario heavy rainstorms. It started with huge gusts of wind, and was followed by a night of spectacular rain, thunder and lightning. The power went off relatively early, so I spent most of the night watching the lightening from my porch before I got cold and went to bed. I loved the sound of the rain rattling on the roof, and the thunder from inside my warm blankets.

Then I thought of my neighbor, his house used a separate road, and he might still have power. At the very least he might have a chainsaw that I could use to cut the logs off the road. I took a walk all the way around the property to his side of the lake. As I got closer, I saw repeated “no trespassing” signs all over the property. A few hundred meters out, when the property opened up into a clearing, the huge looming mansion came into view. There was a van parked out front as well as a truck, so I could only assume that the owner was home, but the lights were all dark. Even worse, a large barbed wire fence surrounded the area. A sign on it read that it was electrified.

“Hello?”, I shouted.

“Are you ok?”, I asked.

He shook his head, no.

“Do you need help?”

He nodded affirmatively.

I opened the gate, and he sped out of there, past me, down the road, back towards my place. I caught up with him and slowed him down. I tried to unbuckle the muzzle but found that it was actually locked on! From the looks of it… all the rubber gear he was wearing was held in place with a lock. I struggled to see if I could open it, but to no avail.

“It’s locked – are there keys inside?”

He shook his head violently. I could see panic in the eyes, this guy really wanted out.

“Ok… I might have some tools back at my place, are you ok to go in there?”

The rubber guy nodded quickly.

“You’re going to be OK,” I said reassuringly, hoping that would ease him a bit.

“Hold still a second, bud,” I said. “I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy!”

I first clipped the lock holding his muzzle on, and unstrapped it from his face. I then unbuckled the ball gag underneath.

“Thanks so much!” he blurted out. “Please… get me out of this thing!”

“Ok… no problem, I’m working on it.”

I hastily clipped the rest of the locks running down the straitjacket, the ankle restraints, and the harness that I discovered he was wearing underneath it all. I piled it all on the table next to me. My guest stood up and stretched, the tight rubber creaking all around him. He pulled the mask off and I could see that he was no older than I was, at the most 27 or 28.

“Please get the zipper in the back,” He said, and I unzipped the suit. He pulled his shoulders and arms out, sweat spilling out onto the floor. He must have been in there for some time. Gloves, boots, rubber toed socks, even a cock and ball sheath all came off and were piled together. He stood before me naked, drenched in sweat.