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creamflix · 1 month ago

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EPISODE 5 — NURSE & STUDCO PRESIDENT ! — featuring suguru geto (1.4k words) & gojo satoru (2.1k words) content warnings: all of this is implied as roleplay, semi-public sex (fingering), breathplay (choked with a tie), overstimulation, riding, praise, temperature play, latex play/stimulation, slight knife play, edging, spanking, body worship, teasing + slight humiliation, teasing dom! gojo, dom! geto — kinktober masterlist ♰ general masterlist

the sterile brightness of the examination room feels suffocating, with its white walls, gleaming silver instruments, and cold air that makes your skin prickle. it’s not the kind of place where you'd expect to feel anything but nervous tension — but right now, that tension is thick with anticipation. SUGURU stands before you, radiates power in his pristine white doctor’s coat. his long, dark hair is tied back, though a few strands fall free, framing his face in a way that only heightens the intensity in his eyes.

he’s toying with the hem of his latex gloves, stretching them tight over his long fingers. the snap! as they settle into place is sharp, loud in the quiet room, and it sends a shiver down your spine. those gloves, smooth and shining under the harsh fluorescent light, are a reminder that you're in his territory now — his patient, his nurse, his to do with as he pleases.

he gives you a look — dark, dangerous, and filled with amusement.

“strip,” he orders, voice steady, rich with authority. there’s no hesitation, no doubt in his command. your heart pounds in your chest, but your body moves on instinct, obeying his every word.

your hands tremble slightly as you unbutton your scrub top, sliding it from your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. the cool air brushes against your now-exposed skin, and you can already feel the goosebumps rising, though you can’t tell if it's from the cold or from the weight of his gaze as he watches every movement with that same predatory gleam. next, you slide out of your pants, standing before him in nothing but your pretty underwear.

suguru’s smirk deepens, and he steps forward. the latex of his gloves gleams in the light as he reaches out, brushing his fingertips lightly against your bare arm. the sensation is electric — cold and smooth at the same time, the latex offering an almost unnatural feel as it drags along your skin. it’s enough to make you gasp softly, the contrast between the coolness of his touch and the warmth building within your body making you squirm in place.

“good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low, with just a hint of approval mixed into the condescension. his fingers glide down your arm, tracing the curve of your shoulder, then lower to your waist, leaving a burning trail in their wake despite the coolness of the latex. you feel the slow, deliberate way he’s touching you, like he’s savoring every moment, every twitch of your body under his hands.

“on the table,” he orders, gesturing to the examination table behind you, the vinyl surface gleaming in the harsh lighting. without hesitation, you climb up, feeling the cold, sticky surface against your skin. the chill of the vinyl presses into your back as you lay down, sending another shiver through you.

suguru moves with calculated grace, pulling the metal tray of instruments closer. the sharp clink of metal against metal reverberates in the quiet room, and your heart pounds faster in your chest. he picks up a slim, silver thermometer, his fingers rolling it between them as he watches you with that same knowing smirk.

“temperature check,” he says, his voice mocking, as though this were a routine medical procedure. but the way he moves tells you this is anything but routine. he presses the cold metal tip of the thermometer against your inner thigh, dragging it upward slowly, deliberately, teasing you as it brushes dangerously close to your core. the sharp chill of the instrument sends a jolt of sensation through you, your hips instinctively shifting at the touch.

“you’re already warm,” he muses, his eyes flicking down to where the thermometer presses against your skin. “but let’s make sure.”

he holds it there, resting against you just enough to make your breath hitch, but not quite enough to give you the pressure you’re craving. the teasing is unbearable, and you squirm under his gaze, your body reacting to the frustration of being so close yet so far from what you need.

suguru watches with a smirk, enjoying every second of your torment. “impatient already?” he teases, pulling the thermometer away with a slow, deliberate motion, the coolness of it disappearing, leaving your skin tingling in its absence. he sets it aside and picks up a new tool — a scalpel. the blade catches the light as he holds it between his fingers, and your heart races at the sight of it.

“don’t worry,” he says, his tone almost playful, though the glint in his eyes betrays his true intentions. “i’m not going to hurt you... unless you ask nicely.”

he brings the scalpel to your skin, pressing the flat side of the cold blade against your stomach. the metal is sharp and icy, a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin, and it sends a jolt of sensation through you. you gasp softly, your muscles tightening as he drags the blade slowly, teasingly, down your abdomen. the scalpel doesn’t cut, but the pressure is enough to make your skin prickle with fear and excitement, your body reacting to the thrill of danger as much as the sensation itself.

he moves the blade lower, tracing a line down to your hip, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches every reaction — every flinch, every gasp, every quiver of your body beneath him.

“so sensitive,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost reverent as he sets the scalpel aside, replacing it with his hand. the latex of his gloves feels warm now against your skin as he continues where the blade left off, his fingers sliding over your body with a slow, deliberate rhythm. “it’s almost pathetic, really. barely touched you, and you’re already trembling.”

his fingers find their way between your thighs, brushing over your most sensitive area with a light, teasing touch. the latex is smooth, slick against you, and the sensation is overwhelming — foreign, intense, as it drags along your skin, the coolness of the material heightening every touch. he rubs slow, deliberate circles, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp, but not enough to give you what you need.

your hips buck slightly, seeking more contact, but suguru’s other hand grips your thigh, holding you in place. “oh, no,” he tuts, his voice a dark, mocking purr. “we’re not finished yet. be a good girl and wait.”

his hand delivers a sharp slap to your inner thigh, the sting of it jolting through you. your skin burns from the impact, the sharpness of the smack leaving a deep, tingling sensation that radiates outwards. the sound of the slap echoes in the room, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning at the mix of pain and pleasure.

“look at you,” he says, his voice filled with amusement as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “so desperate, aren’t you? already trying to cum, and i’ve barely done anything.”

his fingers return between your legs, moving with more purpose now, rubbing slow, agonizing circles over your slick cunt. the latex glides effortlessly, the material gripping and sliding in a way that makes you whimper, your body quivering under his touch. every time you feel yourself inching closer, he pulls back just enough to keep you on the brink, his control over your body absolute.

“such a needy little thing,” he mocks, his voice dripping with condescension as he watches you squirm beneath him, desperate for release. “begging for me to let you cum. is that what you want?”

you nod, gasping softly, but your voice is caught in your throat, too overwhelmed to form words.

“use your words,” suguru demands, his tone sharp as his fingers deliver another sharp slap to your thigh. the sting is enough to snap you out of the haze, and you manage to stammer out a breathless,

“please, doctor… p—please let me cum.”

he smirks, clearly satisfied with your response. “that’s better. but i think you can beg a little harder.” his voice is dark, commanding, as he continues to toy with you, edging you closer and closer to release, only to pull back again just before you can fall over the edge.

“p-please… please,” you whimper, your voice shaky, your body trembling with need. “i need it… please, doc —”

“good girl,” he purrs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “such a good little nurse, begging so sweetly.”

finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing and torment, suguru increases the pressure of his touch, his fingers moving faster now, the latex slick and hot against your sensitive skin. his hand moves with a steady rhythm, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your body tensing as you feel the wave of release building inside you.

“cum for me,” he commands, his voice low, thick with dark satisfaction, as his grip tightens, pushing you over the edge. your body convulses as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, your breath hitching as you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand as you finally find your release.

he doesn’t stop right away, continuing to stroke you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of sensation until you’re trembling, your body completely spent beneath him.

he pulls back slowly, his gloved hand glistening as he wipes it off with a cloth from the tray. he leans in close once more, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “such a good nurse. but don’t think we’re done yet.”

the air was thick with tension inside the dimly lit classroom, the kind reserved for after-hours meetings. the kind of meeting tonight was anything but ordinary.

"you’ve been skipping classes again," you say, voice clipped as you sit behind the student council president's desk. your glasses, purely for show tonight, slide down your nose as you scowl at the man lounging in front of you — legs kicked up on the desk, a smug grin plastered on his face.

GOJO SATORU, the delinquent in question, didn’t look fazed. in fact, he looked downright amused. “oh? prez, i didn’t think you’d care that much about little ol' me,” he teased, twirling a pen in his fingers.

your grip on the edge of the desk tightens. “care? i have a responsibility to keep order in this school, and you're making it difficult."

his grin widens, those crystalline blue eyes glinting with something dangerous — something hungry. he shifts forward, kicking his feet off the desk with deliberate slowness, like a predator ready to pounce. “well, prez, maybe i just need someone to teach me a lesson, huh? show me what it means to behave.”

you feel your pulse quicken, the carefully constructed role you’re playing teetering on the edge. gojo’s hand slides across the desk, fingers brushing your tie, tugging on it with just enough force to pull you slightly forward. his eyes flick to yours, then down to the barely-there gap in your blouse, a sharp smirk curling his lips. "you look a little tense. wanna do something about that?"

the flush that rises in your cheeks is impossible to hide, but you lean back in your chair, crossing your legs in a way that draws his attention immediately to the skirt barely covering anything beneath. “focus, gojo,” you manage to say, though your voice falters slightly. “we’re here to talk about your behavior.”

“i am focusing,” he replies, voice dropping to a husky tone as his gaze drags down to your legs — specifically your stockings. “it’s just hard to concentrate when the prez looks this good… maybe i should just... fix that, huh?"

before you can protest, gojo’s long fingers grip the waistband of your skirt, tugging you forward so you’re perched on the very edge of the desk. your breath hitches when you realize just how exposed you are — your skirt doing nothing to hide the fact that you’re wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

“oh? prez,” he teases, leaning in close, his breath hot against your ear. “seems like you were expecting this all along.”

you try to maintain composure, but it’s impossible when he’s looking at you like that, eyes dark and lips so close you can almost taste him. you’re aware of how indecent this is — but the thrill of being so exposed has your skin prickling with anticipation.

"gojo," you manage to say, but it's more of a breathy plea than an actual reprimand.

he smirks, clearly hearing the shift in your tone. “mm, that's more like it. let’s get you out of that title for a while, prez. maybe you’ll learn to relax.”

his hand slides up your thigh, the smooth material of your stockings making his touch feel electric. your pulse spikes as his fingers inch higher, teasingly close but never quite giving you what you crave. his other hand grips your tie, tugging you closer still, until you’re practically in his lap.

“so fucking pretty like this,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with praise as his fingers finally slip between your legs, coaxing a shiver out of you. “all ready for me, aren’t you? just waiting for me to ruin you.”

you bite your lip to stifle a moan, but he catches it, eyes flashing with amusement. “none of that. i want to hear you.”

he presses his fingers deeper inside you, curling them in a way that has your back arching off the desk, lips parting in a breathless gasp. his free hand tightens around your tie, pulling it just enough to restrict your breathing — just enough to make your heart race faster. your vision swims slightly, but it only heightens the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body.

“good girl,” he murmurs against your lips before kissing you, deep and slow, like he has all the time in the world to savor you. “you like that, don’t you? being taken like this, right here where anyone could walk in.”

the thought sends a thrill down your spine, and you nod weakly, too lost in the heat of his touch to form a coherent reply. he rewards your submission with a harder press of his fingers, thumb brushing over your clit in a way that has you gasping, your body trembling beneath him.

“that’s it,” he praises again, breath hot against your neck as he pulls the tie a little tighter. “look at you, prez. all proper on the outside, but just begging to be fucked, huh?”

he leans down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat, and you let out a sharp moan, thighs trembling around his hand. “so fucking perfect for me.”

the way his fingers work you over, combined with the tightness of your tie around your throat, has you teetering on the edge of bliss, your vision starting to blur from the lack of air. gojo seems to sense it, easing the pressure on your tie just enough for you to take a shuddering breath.

“close, aren’t you?” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “want me to let you cum, prez? or should i make you wait?”

“p-please,” you manage to gasp, barely able to hold on to the role of the stern council president any longer. “need to c-cum.”

he laughs softly, the sound dark and low as he finally gives in to your plea, fingers working you faster, more precise, until you’re coming undone around him, a choked cry of his name spilling from your lips.

but he doesn’t stop. even as you tremble in his grasp, he keeps going, dragging out your pleasure until you’re practically melting into the desk, barely able to think straight. his grip on your tie loosens completely, letting you breathe freely again as he presses one last lingering kiss to your lips.

“good girl,” he murmurs, wiping a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “you did so well for me.”

you try to catch your breath, the aftermath of your release leaving you feeling weightless and dazed, but gojo isn’t done. he pulls you further up into his lap, adjusting your position so you're straddling him, and you realize with a sharp intake of breath that he’s been hard this entire time, straining against his pants.

“but i think it’s time for another lesson, prez,” he says, voice dripping with lust as his hands grip your hips, guiding you down onto him. “don’t you think?”

you can barely form a response as he fills you in one slow, deliberate motion, but the look in his eyes tells you he doesn’t need one. this lesson was far from over.

your body trembles as gojo pulls you onto his lap, his hands firmly guiding your hips down until you're fully seated on him. the stretch has your breath catching in your throat, your mind fogged over with the intensity of how deep he feels inside you. gojo’s smug grin only widens when he sees the way your lips part, the barely-there skirt still fanning over your thighs doing little to hide the way you’re stretched around him.

“fuck, prez, you feel amazing,” he groans, his hands flexing against your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he keeps you still for a moment, savoring the way your body wraps around him. “so perfect. just made for me.”

you can only whimper in response, the sensation of him buried so deep overwhelming your senses. his voice, dark and low, tugs at something deep inside of you, making you want to hear more, to be praised for taking him so well.

“go ahead, ride me,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, “show me just how much you want this, prez. show me how much you need me.”

your legs shake as you try to lift yourself, the tight grip of his hands giving you just enough control to rise before sinking back down onto him, the friction causing a gasp to rip from your throat. the feeling is intoxicating, every slow, deliberate movement sending sparks of pleasure through you.

his grip tightens as you pick up a rhythm, your body moving on instinct, wanting more — needing more. gojo’s eyes never leave you, those icy blues half-lidded and clouded with lust as he watches the way you work yourself on his cock. the sight of you, still wearing your stockings and that damn skirt, barely covering the way you’re taking him, seems to drive him wild.

“look at you,” he breathes, voice dripping with admiration as his eyes rake over you. “so fucking beautiful. you’re doing so good for me, prez. so good.”

his words light a fire inside you, spurring you on as you ride him harder, your pace becoming more desperate. your breath is coming out in short, ragged gasps, your body moving in rhythm with his, but it’s not enough — not yet.

gojo’s gaze flickers down to the tie still hanging loosely around your neck, the same one he’d used to pull you closer earlier. a wicked grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he grabs it again, this time pulling it taut between his fingers.

“open,” he commands, and though his voice is playful, there’s an edge of dominance to it that has you immediately obeying.

you part your lips just enough for him to slip the end of your tie into your mouth, and with a firm tug, he pulls it tight between your lips, effectively gagging you. your eyes widen, but the rush of it — the feeling of being silenced like this — only heightens your arousal. the fabric digs into the corners of your mouth, muffling your moans as you continue to ride him.

“that’s it,” he groans, his hands returning to your hips, guiding you down harder on him, your pace erratic but frantic with need. “fuck, you look so hot like this. can’t even scream my name, can you?”

your muffled cries of pleasure spill around the gag, each sound sending a jolt of heat down your spine as he thrusts up to meet your movements, his cock hitting deeper with every roll of your hips. your legs start to shake, the sensation overwhelming, and gojo’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you barely holding on, so close to the edge.

“such a good girl,” he praises through gritted teeth, his voice rough with arousal as he watches you lose control. “taking me so well, just like you’re supposed to. you like this, don’t you? being gagged, fucked, all while pretending to be the perfect little president.”

you nod helplessly, unable to do anything but submit to him, to the pleasure building inside you with every thrust. the gag in your mouth makes it hard to breathe, the fabric soaked with your saliva, but the rush of being so controlled by him, so utterly claimed, only makes the pleasure more intense.

“gonna make you come just like this,” he growls, his hips snapping up harder now, meeting your every movement with brutal precision. “gonna make you fall apart on my cock, and you can’t even scream.”

the knot in your stomach tightens unbearably, and you try to muffle the sounds spilling from your throat as he fucks you harder, the chair beneath the both of you creaking with the force of it. your body trembles, teetering on the edge of release, your breaths coming out in short, desperate pants around the tie still gagging you.

“go on,” he coaxes, voice low and dangerous. “cum for me, prez. let me feel you.”

with one final, hard thrust, he hits that spot deep inside, and your body goes rigid, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. your vision blurs, your thighs trembling as you ride out the intense pleasure, the gag in your mouth stifling your cries as you clench around him, completely undone.

gojo watches with a hungry grin, his eyes locked on yours as your body trembles against him, his hands never leaving your hips. “so fucking beautiful when you fall apart for me.”

he holds you there, letting you ride out your high, and only when your body starts to relax does he pull the tie from your mouth, tossing it to the side. you gasp for air, your lips wet and red from the fabric, but before you can fully catch your breath, gojo flips you over onto your back, pinning you against the desk.

“we’re not done yet,” he growls, his voice dark with lust as he positions himself between your legs again. “you still owe me another lesson, prez.”

and with that, he plunges back into you, the sound of your gasps and the creak of the desk filling the room once more.

coming up next . . . heinen era & student assistant/teacher roleplay ! starring ryomen sukuna & choso kamo ♰ — comment to be added to taglist ♡

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