NOTES: idk what to tell y’all. I got some bad news today, this made me feel better. It came out of nowhere but I hope yall like it <3 let me know what you think!
TW: brat!reader, sugar daddy!brat tamer!ben, daddy kink (reader only says it once but Ben refers to himself w/ it a few times), kind of mean ben, spanking, restraints (a belt), light aftercare, possessive language, eating off your body, sweet Ben too
MASTERLIST
The air in the suite was heavy with the scent of roses and something sweeter—something very you. Maybe the perfume he flew in from Paris because it made your skin smell “edible.” Combined with the faint scent of your body oil. Clean sheets. Lip gloss.
Bean dropped his keys and almost immediately caught sight of you on the couch.
Still in your robe. Legs bare, toes painted, fingers twirling the end of the ribbon from the lingerie box you hadn’t opened.
You were lounging like you weren’t doing it on purpose. Like you didn’t know the way your robe slipped off one shoulder. Like you weren’t waiting for him to bite.
His jaw flexed. “I told you to put on the new set.” He tipped his head towards the Agent Provocateur box. “So what the fuck is this?”
You stretched slowly, like a kitten waking up. “Didn’t feel like it.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t raise his voice. “Is that right?”
You smiled—soft, bratty, deliberate. “You got white. I was thinking pink.”
Ben crossed the room in three long strides and was on you before you could blink. You gasped as he yanked you off the couch by the waist and bent you over the armrest, one palm braced between your shoulder blades.
Your robe slid up instantly. You kicked once, breath catching, as your ass was bared to the open room.
“You think you’re so cute,” he muttered, rubbing a broad hand over the curve of your ass. “Sittin’ here like a spoiled fuckin’ brat. You want me to handle you, huh?”
“I didn’t say that,” you panted, that teasing smile still on your lips.
He leaned over, lips brushing your ear. “You didn’t have to.”
Smack.
You moaned at the first hit, knees wobbling.
He spanked you again. Then lower. Between your legs.
The sound was obscene—wet and sharp and filthy.
You whined, twisting under his hand.
“Yeah,” Ben growled. “You like that. My girl gets all pouty when she doesn’t get what she wants, so I have to come home and beat the attitude outta her pretty little pussy.”
You arched into it.
“Say it.”
“I like it,” you gasped. “I like when you spank me.”
He laughed, almost delighted. “I know you do, baby.”
He pulled you upright suddenly—hard enough to steal your breath—and hauled you into his lap as he sat back on the couch. You straddled him automatically, the robe now a mess, your thighs still trembling from the sting.
“You forget what your fuckin’ job is?” he asked, cupping your jaw with one hand. “Hmm?”
You licked your lips, the coy little upturn at the corners of your mouth ever present. “Remind me.”
Ben’s hands slid down your back, gripping your ass, guiding you against the thick press of him through his pants.
“You’re my treat. My soft little thing. My spoiled fuckin’ prize. I don’t want a girl who works, who worries, who hustles. You think I came home wantin’ a partner?”
He laughed, low and hot against your neck. “Fuck no. I want this. I want you.”
He gripped your hips, grinding you against him.
“My pretty little plaything with nothin’ on her mind but what she’s gonna wear for me and what’s on the dessert menu.”
You moaned—high and perfect, rolling your hips harder, chasing friction like it was a lifeline.
“That’s my dream,” he said, biting your shoulder. “To have my own, personal wet fuckin’ dream of a woman waiting for me, at my beck and goddamn call.”
“Then fuck me already,” you begged, nails digging into his shoulders.
He pulled you back by the throat just enough to see your face. “Oh, now she’s desperate.”
“Ben, please—”
He lifted you by the waist, stood with you in his arms, and tossed you onto the end bed like a doll. You bounced once, legs askew, robe falling fully off your shoulders.
Ben stood at the edge of the bed and undid his belt slow—watching you. Eating you alive with just his gaze.
Then he hiked one knee onto the mattress and flipped you effortlessly onto your belly, your hips right at the edge of the bed, your toes brushing the floor. “Hands behind your back.”
You obeyed instantly. Breathless.
He pulled both wrists together with his belt, snug but not tight, and pressed down on the small of your back with one hand while the other guided the thick head of his cock between your thighs.
“You don’t wanna have to think?” he growled. “Then don’t. Just take it.”
And then he was inside—deep, hard, forcing the moan out of you like he owned your lungs.
You gasped his name. He groaned into your shoulder.
“Fuck, baby. That’s it. That’s it.” He slammed into you again—again—gripping the belt between your wrists to hold you right where he wanted you. “You’re mine,” he gasped. “You hear me? My girl. My fuckin’ toy to play with.”
“Yours—yours—Ben—”
He let go of your wrists only to grab your hips—hauling you up until your knees hit the edge of the mattress, arching your back so low your spine sang.
“My favorite little thing,” he growled. “My best fuckin’ purchase. Now be good and take every inch. Make Daddy proud.”
Your back was arched so deep it burned. Wrists bound behind you, held tight in the grip of his belt. His cock was buried so deep you it felt like you couldn’t even breathe right—just little whimpers and cries every time he drove forward and stayed there, heavy, thick, relentless.
Ben was panting behind you, one hand pawing at the meat of your hips and ass, the other gripping your bound wrists and using them to fuck you back onto him like he couldn’t get deep enough.
“Look at you,” he rasped. “So fuckin’ tight. So wet. You hear that?”
You did. Sloppy, obscene, wet. Your thighs were soaked. The room was full of it—your gasps, his grunts, the slick slap of skin on skin.
“Say it,” he growled, breath hot at your ear. “Say whose pussy this is.”
“Yours,” you cried, nearly sobbing. “Ben, please—please—”
“You wanna come, baby?”
You nodded frantically.
“Then take it. Be good for me. Come while Daddy’s inside your sweet little pussy.”
He shifted—adjusted his angle, shoved deeper. You all but screamed.
“Ohhh yeah,” he grinned against your neck. “That’s it. Right fuckin’ there, huh?”
His fingers found your clit, rubbed it fast and mean. You were already unraveling. “You wanna be good, don’t you?” he cooed, thrusting through your slick. “Wanna come all over Daddy’s cock, make a fuckin’ mess, show me what I’ve been missin’ all day?”
“Yes—yes, I want—”
Another sharp slap to the same asscheek he’d been gripping minutes ago—hot and stinging, designed to make you behave.
You cried out, hips twitching.
Ben leaned down, voice thick and low at your ear. “Ask me right, or I stop.”
Your fingers clenched in the sheets.
“Please, Daddy,” you breathed, voice cracking just enough. “Please don’t stop. I’ll be good—I swear, just—please. I need it.”
You felt him smile against your skin. “Then fuckin’ take it, baby.”
You shattered—hips jolting, back bowing, mouth falling open on a soundless cry as your body seized and your cunt clenched down on him like you never wanted to let go.
“Fuuuuuck, that’s it,” Ben groaned, fucking you through it. “That’s my good girl. That’s my perfect, spoiled, wet little—fuck—”
He came with a growl—deep, rough, grinding into you as he emptied himself inside, holding you there, stuffed full, shaking under his hands.
Neither of you moved for a long moment.
Just breathing.
Sweating.
Your cheek was pressed to the bedspread, wrists still bound, thighs twitching.
Ben slowly let go of the belt, his touch turning gentle, reverent. He kissed between your shoulder blades. Pulled out of you with a low hiss, then reached for the silk robe and wiped the mess running down your thighs.
“You okay, baby?” he murmured, dragging the soft cloth between your legs. “Talk to me.”
You nodded, dazed. “So good…”
He smiled—softer now—and undid the belt around your wrists, rubbing the marks with warm, careful hands. You flexed your fingers as you rolled onto your beck, letting him hold them and scan over your wrists.
Then he lifted you—effortless—and pulled you into his lap and you both up against the headboard, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around your back like he was keeping you close just in case you tried to float away.
“Look at me.”
You did.
His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen, but softer, too.
“You know I want you like this, right?” he asked quietly, brushing hair off your face. “That this thing we do? That’s not just for show?”
You nodded, throat a little thick. “I know.”
He kissed your forehead.
“Good,” he murmured. “Then let’s get you into that pretty white set and order enough dessert to piss off the chefs.”
It was after midnight, but the suite still felt warm—like something decadent had happened there and the air hadn’t quite recovered.
You were curled in his lap sideways, thighs draped over one of his, legs bare, that perfect white set finally clinging to your skin the way it was meant to. He’d made you put it on after he cleaned you up, said it would be a shame to waste it. You hadn’t even protested—not when he’d dropped soft kisses over your thighs while doing the clasps himself.
Now, you were sticky with sugar.
Literally.
He’d ordered a tower of desserts while you were in the bath. Half of it had ended up between your lips. The other half—melted chocolate, strawberry glaze, powdered sugar—had somehow ended up on your thighs, your belly, your tits.
And Ben was slowly cleaning it off with his mouth.
You giggled as his tongue dragged lazily up your inner thigh, catching the drip of crème brûlée custard he’d smeared there just to have an excuse to put his mouth on you—as if he really needed one.
He groaned. “You taste better than the fuckin’ dessert.”
“You’re gonna make me all sticky again.”
“You’re already sticky.” He kissed the top of your thigh, his hand stroking idly over the other. “You’re always sticky after I’m done with you.”
You slapped his chest—playful.
He caught your hand and kissed your knuckles like a gentleman. His version of a gentleman, at least.
“You wearin’ this little get up for me?” he asked, voice low and soft and smug.
“You made me put it on,” you rolled your eyes, smiling all the while.
“Damn right I did.” He traced the edge of the lace over your hip. “And now you look like a doll someone forgot to put away.”
You wiggled in his lap. “You’re obsessed.”
Ben caught your chin and kissed you, slow and warm, his thumb stroking under your jaw. “I am.”
He meant it.
He kissed you again, deeper this time, then pulled back just enough to press a cherry from the tray to your lips. “Open.”
You did, and he pushed it in with his thumb, eyes locked on your mouth as you sucked the juice off slowly.
He groaned—low and filthy. “Christ, baby. I could watch you like this for the rest of my life.”
“Because I look hot, or because you like feeding me?”
He grinned. “Both. You know what does it for me?”
You raised a brow.
“You. With all the sugar in the world on your tongue and nothin’ on your mind.”
You flushed, but he didn’t let up.
“All soft and sweet and lazy. Needy as hell. That’s my favorite version of you. When you let me spoil you. When you let me have you, just like this.”
He kissed your shoulder. Then the spot just beneath your collarbone. Then bent and kissed your belly—slow, warm, tender.
“You feelin’ good?” he asked softly.
“Better than good.”
He smiled, satisfied, and laid back against the cushions, pulling you with him so your cheek was on his chest.
“Good,” he said. “’Cause we’re doin’ all of it again in the morning.”
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the private booth smelled like smoke and expensive cologne, velvet curtains drawn tight to muffle the thrum of bass and chatter outside. red light washed over everything and toji fit right into it. leaning back on the couch like a king on his throne, thick roll of cash dropped on the table to buy more than just a dance.
he crooked a finger at you and your heels clicked against the floor as you stepped closer, hips already swaying. his gaze was heavy, dragging down your tits spilling from the sequined top, down your thighs glistening under the dim light. “go on, doll,” he rumbled. “show me what you’re worth.”
you climbed into his lap, slow and sultry, pressing your tits against his chest, rolling your hips against the thick bulge under his slacks. his smirk spread when you let out a tiny gasp, the friction too much, too good. “fuckin’ knew it,” he muttered, one hand gripping your ass, the other palming your tit like he owned it. “you’re not thinkin’ about the money at all, are you? just a slut getting wet for daddy’s cock.”
“mm—no… jus’ wanna be good,” you babbled, eyes glassy as you ground down harder.
toji chuckled darkly, dragging your panties to the side and shoving two thick fingers inside. the sudden stretch made you squeal, nails scratching at his shirt. he pumped hard, curling them right, watching your jaw go slack, lip gloss smearing as you moaned. “fuck, listen to that,” he groaned, his fingers squelching in your soaked cunt. “already sloppy. already dumb.”
you whined, clinging tighter to his broad shoulders.
“say it,” he ordered, thrusting his fingers deep. “say what you are.”
“’m—fuck—’m your slut,” you moaned, head lolling against his neck.
he smacked your ass, making you yelp. “louder. make it real.”
“your slut! i’m your slut, daddy!”
his grin was wicked as he dragged his cock out, thick and hard, slapping it against your clit until your thighs trembled. “that’s right. now repeat after me.” he lined himself up, teasing your entrance. “pretty sluts don’t think—”
“p-pretty sluts don’t think,” you gasped, hips jerking down in search of him.
“they just spread.”
“they… jus’ spread,” you whined, already sinking down on his cock, walls fluttering around the stretch.
“good fuckin’ girl.” his hands gripped your hips and forced you down until you were stuffed full, the blunt head bullying your cervix. “look at that—dumb doll stuffed with cock. all mine.”
you cried out, bouncing helplessly as he guided your body up and down. the slap of skin echoed off the walls, loud enough anyone walking past could hear. but nobody stopped it. this was what men paid for, what everyone pretended not to notice.
“say it again,” he growled, fucking up into you harder. “say what pretty sluts do.”
“don’t think—just spread!” you wailed, tears shining in your lashes, drool slipping down your chin as your tits bounced wildly.
toji laughed darkly, wiping your spit with his thumb only to push it back into your mouth. “atta girl. open wide. choke on it. keep them lips busy since your dumb little head ain’t good for anything else.”
you moaned around his thumb, sucking mindlessly while he fucked up into you, each thrust knocking another thought out of your head. your cunt clenched tighter the meaner he got, your body betraying you, loving every filthy word. “yeah, that’s it,” he groaned, rutting harder, chasing the squeeze of your pussy. “my cockdrunk toy. my stupid little bimbo doll. can’t dance without bouncing on daddy’s cock, huh?”
your voice cracked on a moan, “jus’ wanna bounce—jus’ wanna be full—”
“then fuckin’ take it,” he snarled, slamming you down until your eyes rolled back. “be my dumb slut. be my stupid, pretty hole everyone knows is getting wrecked right behind these curtains.”
you obeyed, babbling mantras between sobbed moans, nothing but a glossy-eyed doll bouncing until he used you up.
It started before breakfast. You didn’t want to get out of bed. Didn’t like the clothes in your drawer. Didn’t want to eat the eggs Toji made. Got pouty and annoyed when he left to take a phone call in the other room. Snapped at him when he asked you to help with the dishes. Slammed the bathroom door. Huffed. Crossed your arms. Refused to look him in the eye while he was trying to form a conversation with you during lunch.
“You’re walking a fine line today, baby,” he warned with a lazy swat to your ass while you stomped past him that afternoon. “Keep acting like this and you’re gonna find out”.
“Find out what,” you questioned annoyingly, with your back to him while you shoved another shirt into the laundry pile with more force than necessary, folding too hard, and slamming fabric down until the whole stack toppled over the side of the bed.
He even took you out to get ice cream but you were already fussy again by dinner.
You didn’t even say thank you when he set the plate down in front of you at dinner. You barely touched your food. You kept fidgeting in your seat, your white socks kicking under the table, whining every few minutes for no real reason.
Toji sighed halfway through the meal and leaned back in his chair—giving you a long, fed-up look.
“You on your period or something?”
“No,” you huffed at the audacity.
“You sure?”
“I’m just in a mood”.
“Yeah, I noticed”.
Still, he didn’t press you about it. He just helped you brush your teeth, tucked you into bed, and turned off the light before heading to bed with you.
But you couldn’t stay still.
You kept tossing and turning. Pulling the blanket away from him. Kicking it off. Flopping around with your face scrunched. Toji groaned sleepily, cracking one tired eye open to look at you. “What the hell is wrong with you today?”
You rolled over on your back and sniffled, your bottom lip trembling in mild frustration. “I don’t know…”
He blinked, confused.
You sniffled again.
And then you reluctantly crawled into his lap.
“Ohhh,” he muttered like he had finally uncovered the answer to a long-standing mystery. You clumsily straddled his waist, the thin cotton of your sleep shorts already warm and damp where it pressed against the solid weight of his thigh.
“Ohhh,” he mumbled again, voice lower this time, his big hands already finding your hips to lift you up and settle your core over the hard swell beneath his pants. “So that’s what this was about, huh?”
You whined, mumbling something incoherent before burying your face in his chest from embarrassment.
“My poor baby’s just been walking around cock-starved all day,” he teases, lips grazing your temple before lingering there in a gentle kiss.
“Nuh-uh…”
“Oh yeah?” he chuckled, curling two fingers into the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down. He swiped his fingers between your folds, before lifting his hand to show you the string of slick that stretched and clung before snapping apart. Holding his sticky fingers to your face, he smirked. “Then why’re you so fucking wet, sweetheart?”
“Dunno…” you whined, a shaky little whimper breaking in your throat.
“Uh huh”. He squeezed your chin lightly, forcing you to look at him. “You didn’t need cuddles. Didn’t need praise. Didn’t need food or TV or attention…”
His other hand shoved his boxers down, freeing his cock with a heavy springing slap against his stomach. He wrapped his fist tight at the veiny base, sliding the swollen crown through your messy slit, grinning at the way it caught and dragged over your fluttering entrance.
“You just needed daddy to stuff your horny little hole, huh?”
You bobbed your head in a frantic nod, heat flooding your cheeks as he rolled the thick, leaky head of his cock between your folds, smearing your slick and his pre-cum while dragging back and forth in maddening teases.
Toji let out a husky laugh under his breath, the sound low and rough, as his hands steadied you and guided you down onto him. Both of you groaned when he bottomed out, the heavy weight of him impaling you completely. As soon as you sank all the way down—settling into the big stretch, rocking gently in his lap with soft sweet mewls spilling from your parted lips—you went quiet. Your body relaxed, the tension bleeding out of your shoulders, your fussiness melting away until you were calm. Finally, finally not fussy—just like he knew you would be once he gave you what you really needed.
“You’re fucking unbelievable,” he grunted, His fingers dug harder into your hips, thick hands clamping down until you could feel the sting of his grip, holding you in place like he was never going to let you go. “Been fucking stressing me out and worrying me all day just for this? Just for a little cock?”
You moaned, lips parted and eyes glazed, a dazed look overtaking your face. “Didn’t mean to…” You slurred, the words tumbling out in a breathless whimper.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, hailing your body back down onto him. His hands held you steady and did most of the work, forcing you into a lazy bouncing rhythm in his lap, every rise making your walls cling desperately to the tip that stayed hooked inside your hole, and every drop stuffing you full again until you whimpered at the pressure.
The fat head of his cock ground against every tender spot inside, stretching you wider with each slow plunge, the girthy base bullying into your cunt until you could feel it all the way up in your belly. Each bounce dragged a needy squeeze out of you, your little hole fluttering and milking around him, the loud filthy slap of your body against his thighs filling the air.
His chest rumbled with a groan as he watched you take it, watched you calm down on his cock like he knew you would. “Go on, milk it, princess. Been storing up a big load just f’you today,” he rasped, smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “Soak daddy’s cock since it’s the only thing that makes you feel better”.
He sat up properly on the bed, taking full control and fucking up into you instead of lifting and bouncing you on him. You clung tighter, burying yourself in the warmth of his embrace as your fingers claw at the raw muscles in his back. His voice softened against your ear even as he filled you.
“There she is… my sweet girl’s back, huh?”
You nodded, sobbing into his shoulders as your pussy spasms around his cock, clenching around him repeatedly as you get close. “Mhm…”
“All you needed was a fat fucking cock to sit on,” he whispered in your ear with a raspy chuckle, kissing your shoulder, then your neck, then your jaw before licking across your lips and the tears streaming down your cheek.
“‘M sorry I was so mean today…”
“It’s alright,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you tighter to squish your tits against his broad chest as you started to tremble from how deep he was.
“You’re not mad?”
“Course not, baby,” he said softly, even as he fucked you harder. “You’re just a dumb little thing who needs her daddy’s cock or she goes insane”.
what about a toji fic where the reader dominates him? She ties him up and teases the hell out of him and he’s pisseddddd, he wants to escape that rope so bad but he can’t, and when he DOES he goes feral. i feel like that’d be scrumptious 🤌🏻
everyone please let anon cook.
MDNI!! incredible smut ahead, this is your final warning.
WC: 4.8k
CW: Toji x reader. Breeding. Name calling. Teasing. Little bit of free use. Toji is a whiny begging mess?!?!? Smut smut smut.
“Hey babe?” You call from the kitchen of your shared apartment. There’s a few creaks in the ceiling above you as you hear who you assume to be Toji shuffling to his feet.
“Whaddya’ want?” Toji yells from the top of the stairs, not wanting to make the full commitment of coming down just yet.
“Could you come down here? I wanna talk to you,” you yell back before he’s hesitantly taking the first step down. He was nervous since your birthday was in a few days. He wanted to play the nonchalant type and then surprise you this weekend with a party full of friends, drinks, and music. He already had plenty of presents picked out, buying one for each day of the month.
You were nervous, too. Your birthday was in three days and while you’ve mentioned it on and off to your boyfriend, you were still scared he’d forget. He worked at odd hours of the night and you didn’t even know if he had to work on your birthday. Birthdays weren’t usually a big deal for you, but you at least wanted him to acknowledge the day somehow.
“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” He says, heavy feet dragging the floor before he hugs you from behind.
You turn to face him, finding it a little difficult to escape his strong grasp.
“Remember that special day coming up soon?”
Oh god. Here you go. He wanted to act as if he had no idea, hoping to not spoil the surprise in case you asked if he made plans. But seeing that poor look in your eyes was enough for him to drop the façade.
“Of course baby doll, it’s your birthday. Why?”
Oh. So he did remember! Why has he led on like he didn’t?
“Well, it’s sort of embarrassing but I wanted to ask you somethin’. Figured you’d say no if it wasn’t my special day,” you admit, crossing all of your fingers and toes that Toji doesn’t laugh at your request and walk the other way.
“Shoot. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hun,” he says, putting a hand on his hip and the other on the counter, leaning into it while he studies your expression. You looked hopeful but scared, like a stray pup on the side of the road that just met their new owner.
“So ya’know how you like to tie me up sometimes when we…do it?”
How elementary.
“You mean when we fuck? Yeah, I like it quite a lot. Love seein’ you tied up on your back for me, ready to take me. If that’s all you want for your birthday don’t worry, I was plannin’ on doin’ that already, love,” he responds earnestly. You two didn’t use the ropes that often as Toji preferred using his own hands and arms as your restraints. But he always saw the way your face lit up when he tightened the rope around your wrists, corded nylon digging into your soft skin hard enough to leave marks for a few days.
“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could do it like that but the other way around…?”
Jesus, if you weren’t blushing already, you sure were now. Toji always gets excited when you talk to him about anything remotely sexual. It seems as if a switch was flipped when you mentioned the ropes as he was now towering over you, green eyes peering into yours as he drinks in every word that leaves your lips.
“So tie you up and fuck you in doggy? We’ve done that before, ya’ just gotta’ ask, sweetheart. Use your words and be clear with me, you know how I feel about trying to read through your lil’ mind games you like to play,” he says with a smirk on his pretty face.
He grabs your hand in his, fingers interlocking as he rubs his thumb over yours as if you two were being purely romantic and thinking no kind of sinful thoughts.
You huff when he grabs your hand. You thought he’d catch on by now. You were never one to really take initiative in the bedroom. Toji always had to ask what you wanted and make you speak up if you mumbled too lowly. You were too embarrassed to voice your needs to him although it was something he could never get enough of.
“No, I-I don’t mean like that. I was thinking I could tie you up…?” You ask, nearly closing your eyes for fear of him laughing in your face.
He grips your hand tightly.
His other hand flies to your waist, large thumb pressing into your ribcage, hard.
His eyelids are lower, and his eyes quickly dart between your lips and your eyes.
Was he… mad? You couldn’t tell. When he got angry, he looked awfully similar to how he looked when you two were in bed together. A part of you found yourself slightly excited whenever he did get mad, losing yourself in his aggressive body language and taut figure.
“Oh. You wanna’ tie me up?” He removes his hand from yours, bringing the back of it up to your cheek as he brushes the hair out of your face.
“That’s what you’re all embarrassed about? You’re too cute. What’s gotcha’ wantin’ to take charge all of a sudden?”
Fuck it, you think. If there was a time to be honest, it was now.
“Well… I was watchin’ this video the other day. She had him tied up.. and it looked like he really liked it. Jus’ wanna make you feel good,” you admit, knowing the video you saw was much more explicit than your words let on.
“Make me feel good? On your birthday?” He asks.
He was trying to keep his cool as he pictures you finally taking control. He loved having the say-so in bed and he was more than happy to keep it that way. He liked to push your buttons and make you squirm, making you speak clearly when you asked him if he could eat you out or kiss your neck. But something about this scenario has him feeling red hot.
“I mean we d-don’t have to, I just thought it’d be fun to try… I even looked up knots I could do and stuff,” you beam, overly excited that he hadn’t shut you down the moment the words left your lips.
You were so precious. Doing research on a project you hadn’t even gotten approval for yet, overzealous at the slight chance he might say yes.
“Aw hun, look at you hittin’ the books. You think you could find some rope I can’t break out of?”
This conundrum had occurred to you, and you’d taken it upon yourself to run to the hardware store a few weeks ago to find some rope that was somewhat Toji-Grade.
“Maybe? I went to the store a while ago and found some I think might be good,” you respond as you watch the smirk leave his face.
He steps impossibly closer to you, now covering you completely in his shadow.
“If you’re extra good for me and you let me fuck you whenever I want, however I want for the next week, you have yourself a deal,” he says, quite excited to have you ready to use at his disposal as he pleases.
Holy shit. He actually said yes? All you had to agree to was a shit ton of sex for the next week? This was going to be your best birthday yet.
“O-Of course, baby,” you coo.
He picks you up by your thighs and puts you on the counter, attacking your neck with his lips, tongue, and teeth.
“How ‘bout we get started on that free use now then, huh doll?”
The day was finally here. You’d all eaten your cake, opened way too many presents, and the drinks were flowing. Most of your friends had left, only leaving a few stragglers that were currently looking for their belongings before their ride arrived.
You were starting to get very nervous. You had practiced a few of the knots that morning while Toji was out getting your cake, and you were sure you had the basic ones down. You had never practiced on a live model before, but you were hoping the glass of liquid courage you just finished would boost your confidence.
You wave the last of your friends goodbye, thanking them for coming. Toji had thrown one hell of a party. You twist the deadbolt to the left after you make sure your friends make it to their cars safely. You turn around to see Toji going upstairs.
“Where are you runnin’ off to?” You ask, hoping he hadn’t forgot about his promise.
Always so nosy.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget. Gotta shower first, get yourself ready baby,” he says, not even turning around as he reaches the top of the stairs.
You rush upstairs as soon as you hear the shower faucet running. You grabbed one of your kitchen chairs, trudging upstairs, trying not to hit the walls on either side of you.
You steady your breath as you place the chair on the hardwood. You grabbed the rope from your closet and took your party dress off to reveal your black lingerie underneath. You sit in the chair, tapping your foot wildly while you wait for your best present yet.
You hear the doorknob turn and you hop up, grabbing the rope tightly as you try to calm your nerves. You knew this wouldn’t be good for either of you if you half-assed it — the whole reason Toji made you fall apart when you two had sex was because of his confidence with his words and actions. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that the more into it you were, the better it would be for your man.
He saunters into the office, droplets of water still beading off of his musculature while clouds of steam rise from his figure. All he had on his lower half was a short white towel, leaving next to nothing to the imagination. He lets out a whistle as he sees you dressed in your not-quite birthday suit.
He walks towards you, reaching his hands out to grab your waist and pull you in for a heated kiss.
Or so he thought.
You poke your finger against his burly chest, trying with all your might to push him back, though all you do is stop him in his tracks.
“Uh-uh sir, no touching. Sit down.”
He laughs at you, apologizing as soon as he saw the hurt look on your face.
“S-Sorry baby, didn’t think you’d be ready to start quite yet. This is gonna be hard for me ya’know, but I’ll try my best to act like how you do when we fuck, okay?” His reassuring words ease your worries, as you grab his hand and lead him to the chair.
You walk to the back of the chair, placing one hand on his buff shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “don’t call me baby. it’s ma’am and nothin’ else, yeah?” You ask, trying your best to channel whatever dominant nature you possessed.
Fuck. He told himself he wouldn’t like this. He needed to regain his composure before you got any bright ideas about dominating him more often. He mumbles back a low ‘yes ma’am’ as he watches a small tent form underneath his towel.
You start to unravel the rope, grabbing his large wrists and bringing them behind the chair before you’re wrapping the thick cord around them.
“What was that? Gonna’ have to speak up f’me,” you said, coining one of Toji’s phrases for your own.
Jesus. You were really laying it on thick.
“I said yes ma’am,” he growls, ashamed at how excited he was that the roles were reversed this time.
“Good boy,” you coo in his ears, noticing how his cock twitches as the sound of your voice.
You’ve wrapped the rope up and around his arms and the back of the chair, and while the first knot you tied around his wrists was shotty work at best, the rest were definitely suitable. You move your way to his front now, wrapping the rope underneath his broad pecs extra tight, loving how the rope accentuated his voluptuous figure. With each taut pull of the rope, his dick would spring up a few inches further.
“Won’t be needing’ this anymore, huh?” You ask as you snake your cold hands under the towel, pulling it off of him slowly as he raises his butt up to let you grab the rest of the fabric.
He huffs as he feels the cool air hit his member, a bead of precum at the tip revealing his love for the scenario he was in all too soon.
“Looks like somebody’s enjoying themselves,” you add, noticing just how excited he’s gotten since you two have started.
“Let me take care of you tonight, baby. I know you’re so stressed from work and you always take such good care of me. Wanna’ make you feel so good, yeah?” You say as you tie the last bit of rope around his ankles.
You were surprised he was being so silent about this. No protests, no sly remarks, no jokes at your expense. He was always so quick and cunning both in and out of the bedroom.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“No, just ready to get this shit over with s’all,” he scoffs, hoping you didn’t catch onto his bluff.
“No what?”
You were pushing him to his limits. He liked this, but his pride was being wounded with every word that left your pretty lips.
“No ma’am. Let’s hurry it up though, yeah? Been waitin’ for you to put that pussy on me all night,” and you can’t help but blush at his words. He took all the dominant energy you were feeling and turned it into submissiveness just with a sentence. You take a deep breath as you drop to your knees in front of him, ready to get the show on the road.
You glare up at him as you run your hands on top of his thighs, fingers splaying over the ropes holding him tightly. He smiles down at you, looking past his cock at your soft lips, aching for them to be wrapped around his leaking tip.
You finally reach the area Toji wanted your hands to be most, running your nail up the bottom of his long dick. He grunts at the contact, not anticipating just how much you wanted to tease him through this.
“So pretty f’me baby, you look so good all tied up when you’re not runnin’ that mouth,” you say, running your thumb on the underside of his tip before he bites his bottom lip.
You wanted to tease him plenty, sure, but you also had needs of your own that needed to be fulfilled, soon. You finally wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, and he was so thick you couldn’t even join your thumb to the rest of your fingers.
He drops his head back behind him, not realizing just how desperate he was for your touch. He’s cursing as you run your hand up his length, stopping to gather all the precum at the tip before you use it as lubrication.
You’re now teasing just the tip, rubbing your hand over and over it, overstimulating his most sensitive area just like he loved to do to your clit when he ate you out. The whiny moans he was emitting made your cunt ache with want. You reach your other hand down to play with your throbbing clit, moaning at how erotic this whole situation was.
“You like i-it too, bab — sorry, f-fuck,” he says before he’s even realizing he said it. He didn’t want to hear you chastise him for not calling him ma’am, but he couldn’t help but speak up when he saw your tiny hand rush down to your sweet pussy.
“What’d I tell you, huh? Am I gonna have to punish you?
He shakes his head with a fervor, responding with a firm “no ma’am”. He was so fucking whipped for you and if Shiu ever found out about this he would have to kill him. Absolutely nothing personal, just business.
You tell him he’s a good boy, wanting to reward him for being so quick to correct himself for you. You reach your head down before you lick his weeping tip so teasingly. He grunts, looking down at your pretty face as you take the full tip inside your wet heat.
“God, jus’ like that,” he whines, needing you to take more of him now.
You suck his tip harshly, pulling off with a loud pop!
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you command. You were all too eager as you cover your fingers in your lust, using it as lubrication to enter yourself (although you wish it was Toji’s fingers instead).
You take in more of him, hollowing your cheeks, using your free hand to stroke the rest of his massive length. You were hardly ever able to take him all the way down your throat, but the liquor helped you loosen up just a little bit more. You shove your head down until he reaches your throat, taking a deep breath before you remove your hand and push yourself almost all the way down. You swallow around him in your throat, trying your best to breath through your nose. Toji is squirming in the chair, so frustrated that he can’t grab a fistful of your hair and fuck your throat like you deserved.
“F-Fuck, takin’ all of me so well, doll,” he says, too lost in the warm wet walls of your throat to notice his mistake. He tries his hardest to buck his hips, making you gag around him before you’re pulling off of him much too quickly. He worries he pushed in too far before you’re sitting in his lap, so ready to scold him for slipping up one too many times.
You put one hand on his chin, running your finger over his bottom lip like he always did to you. You knew you looked far from intimidating right now, but you tried your best to keep up the act.
“That’s three times now baby. Guess I’ll have to punish you after all,” and boy did you have the perfect punishment in mind. You knew how difficult it was for him to keep his hands off of you the entire time, especially when you were reaching a hand down to continue touching yourself.
He tracks your every movement, panting while he watches you push two of your tiny fingers into yourself. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer like this. He knew your knot tying skills weren’t as practiced as his, and the ones you tied at his hands were loose from the start. He starts pulling on the rope more than he already was, hoping he can loosen the hold it had on his wrists to finally take you like he so desperately needed.
“You’re torturing me,” he says, making extra sure not to throw in a nickname like he usually would, “please just touch me, I’ll do anything,” he adds, really hoping you’d give in sometime soon.
You moan on top of him, leaning down to kiss his poor, over-bitten lips. He whines into the kiss, trying his best to be aggressive when all he could do is pull against the tight ropes and hope you take it easy on him.
“Anything, huh? Would you beg for it? I love when you get all needy for me. Beg and I’ll think about it, boy,” you tell him. You loved when he asked anything of you, just knowing that he wanted you had you absolutely melting for him.
He was passed the point of caring at this point. He was painfully hard, his red swollen tip leaking an obscene amount of precum. Watching you attempt to please yourself while he knew that he’d be able to make you cum in a minute with just his fingers was sending him.
“I’d do anything I swear. You don’t know how bad I need you. You look so fuckin’ good and I’m about to cum just watchin’ you. I know you want it, too, you still look so desperate f’me even though you’ve got this whole tough guy thing goin’ on,” he rambles, hoping what he said was enough to break you.
“Me? D-Desperate? I could just cum right here and be done with you, slut. You look like you’re about to explode j-just waitin’ for me,” you add, knowing he was about to fucking lose it.
The knot was so close to coming undone, but he didn’t want to let on as to was he was doing. He had to stop in his tracks once you reach a hand down to tug at his puffy nipple, cursing under his breath. You knew that was one of his most sensitive spots and you were too quick to use it to your advantage.
“I am, I promise I am. I’ll be such a good boy for you, I swear. Please just fuck me. Please I swear I’ll be good I don’t know what else to say just please fucking put it —“ he says as all the breath is ripped from his lungs. You had stood up at this point, turning around as you line up his cock with your puffy folds.
You sit down on him, wasting no time before bottoming out entirely. The stretch was so extreme, but you were much too desperate for him to fill you up. You hear Toji let out a desperate whine, not expecting you to take all of him so quickly. He was so pent up from all the teasing and all he wanted to do was to fuck into your sweet cunt with reckless abandon.
“G-God, yeesss, you’re so good for me, ma’am,” he says as obediently as he could.
You slowly draw your hips up before you slam back down, giggling at how cute Toji sounded when he was this pussydrunk. One taste of your cunt and he was already whimpering for you and obeying your every command.
“That’s it, you’re a quick learner, aren’t ya, daddy?” You ask. You knew Toji loved when you called him that, which is why you saved using it for special occasions such as these. You continue to fuck back into him, grinding on his lap as you moan so sinfully for him. All that can be heard is the lewd plap! plap! plap! of your skin meeting his as he whimpers underneath you.
Toji could tell your legs were getting tired as your pace became more sloppy.
“F-Fuck, baby, so so close,” you whine out, trying to fuck yourself through your high before your legs give out.
This would be the perfect opportunity to escape. With one final tug of the ropes around his wrist, he feels his hand set free. He bucks his hips into you, quickly removing the other hand from its confines.
“Yeah, is my baby gonna cum all over my cock like the cockslut she is? Huh? I asked you a question, bitch,” he spits out.
Did you hear him correctly? Did he forget how this game was supposed to go? You were debating pulling off of him entirely until you feel —
A hand?
Toji grabs a fistful of your hair before he yanks you back into him, wrapping the other around your waist before he is pounding into your sopping cunt at lightning speed. The ropes you bound were only held together by the knot at his wrist and two at his feet, so the rest of the ropes fell off of him with ease. You had no clue how he escaped and quite frankly, you didn’t care.
“Gotta get better at tyin’ those ropes, doll. Coulda’ got out a while ago, but I like watchin’ you struggle to cum,” he says casually, like he’s not brutally fucking you through your long awaited orgasm.
“That’s it, take this fuckin’ dick, doll. Lemme feel that pussy suck me in like she does so well,” he says, fully talking you through it as you release all you have onto him.
Before you can even come down from your high, Toji is literally spinning you around on his dick before he’s standing the both of you up. His legs are still bound to the chair, so it takes him a minute to find his balance. But once he does, he is absolutely abusing your filthy cunt as he fucks you in the air. Two big hands glued to your ass cheeks as he moves your whole body on top of him, not leaving any inch of his cock uncovered with your slick.
“Been teasin’ me so fuckin’ much, brat, gonna make me cum too soon.”
Your arms are tight around Toji’s neck as he absolutely ruins you, nothing but choked moans leaving your lips.
“Not my f-fault you can’t last old m-man,” you stutter, all power behind your words lost as soon as that knot came undone.
All he can say is a loud, “fuck you,” before he’s bullying into your precious cunt with a ferocity you’ve never seen before. You warn him that you’re so close to tipping over the edge.
“Nah, babydoll. Little brats don’t get to finish. Yer’ gonna’ take this fuckin’ load like the cumslut you are and you’re gonna fuckin’ like it,” he says as he’s fucking into you with a harsh final thrust before he empties his thick load into your tight, wet heat. His cum shoots out so fast, he’s moaning into your neck with each rope that comes out.
He’s all but collapsing back into the chair with you still on top of him, earning a low moan from you as the position pushes his seed even further into your womb. You start to pull off of him to go get a towel before he’s grabbing a wad of your hair and slamming you back down onto his cock for the nth time that night.
A/N: so uhhh… y’all remember my Red Dress one shot? Well, here’s the continuation of that, except now, it’s Shinjuro’s turn.
There is nothing redeemable about this. It’s pure smut.
CW: MDNI • 7.2k • explicit sexual content below • cucking • breeding • creampie • Kyojuro sets his fiance up tbh but she’s into it • just nasty filth • doggy • rough rug sex • desk sex •
Senjuro ended up departing for a neighbor’s after dinner, and the Rengoku patriarch retired to bed not long after. Though the two of you should have been well on your way home, Kyojuro had gotten distracted.
“I thought of you all through dinner,” his breath is hot against your ear. One hand flips up the skirt of your sundress as the other fumbles with his belt. “How you sat there, talking to my father and brother while my seed leaked out of you.”
“Kyojuro — oh —“ you’re cut off by his bruising, rough kiss. You break away only with a sharp gasp as your fiance’s practiced fingers drag over the lacy seam of your underwear, your hips bucking into his touch. His mouth only slopes messily down your neck. Kyojuro growls into your skin in approval at the wetness he finds between your legs — a mixture of his cum and your renewed arousal.
“You drive me wild,” the leather around his hips gives way, and his fingers are nimble as they unfasten the top button of his pants.
You can’t hide the way your mouth runs dry, or how your thighs unconsciously press together as Kyojuro pulls his stiffened cock free. A thrill flutters in your stomach at the thought of getting on your knees before him and offering your mouth for his use. That excitement is doubled at the prospect of being inside your future father-in-law’s study, a place you wouldn’t have dared to venture had Kyojuro not led you here by the hand.
But that arousal grinds to a sharp halt when Kyojuro’s fingers curl under the edge of your underwear and yank them down your legs. A quick rustle of fabric indicates he’s shoved them into the pocket of his loosened pants, for safe-keeping.
Kyojuro gives himself a firm pump before lining himself up with your entrance.
“This is — Kyo — your father’s study —“
“I’m aware.” With one mighty thrust of his hips, he forces himself to the hilt inside you. “Keep quiet, my Flame.”
Once he’s confirmed that your hand is braced steadily behind you on the rich mahogany of his father’s desk, Kyojuro pulls back, his fingers deftly pushing the straps of your sundress from your shoulders. He tugs the bodice down to your waist and your breasts pebble at the sudden exposure to the warm air of the home office.
Kyojuro hums at the sight of the marks he’d left behind; the way the light from the fire dances across your exposed skin.
He begins with shallow thrusts that grow deeper, more forceful with every passing moment. Before long, you’re forced to smother your whimpers against the thick curve of his shoulder, your fingers curling under the edge of the desk as it rocks and creaks with his movements.
“Fuck, my love,” Kyojuro groans into your hair. “God, you feel too fucking good to stop.”
He must be desperate, you decide, given the way he steadily lets his weight fall into you until you’re forced back against the flat surface of the desk. If you weren’t too busy muffling your sounds of pleasure by burying your teeth into your bottom lip, you would’ve smiled. Kyojuro was so adorable when he was like this; when he gave into his more base desires to rut fast and deep.
Your fiance quiets his own euphoria by sealing his mouth against your throat. His moans rumble across your skin, chased by alternating flicks of his tongue nips of his teeth His hands grip you firmly by your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, anchoring you to him as he pushes faster and deeper into you.
A floorboard nearby creaks, but neither of you notice; you’re too enraptured in one another, your body already thrumming with a need for more that hot, saltiness you can’t help but crave that you know Kyojuro won’t be able to resist giving you.
Thank goodness for the card of neat little pills waiting on your nightstand at home; though you’d likely be pushing your luck, you’re optimistic that your fiancé will give you his fill and still get you back in time for you to take your birth control.
Kyojuro tears his mouth away from your neck and straightens, his nails digging into your hips as he jerks you to meet his bruising thrusts.
“What do you think, Father?” Kyojuro’s jovial tone makes you freeze and the sweat which has begun to cling to your skin turns cold. “Is the view better than you imagined?”
Instantly you jolt up, clinging to Kyojuro’s massive frame in an effort to keep yourself concealed.
A dismissive scoff sounds from a distant corner of the study. “It certainly isn’t worse.”
Dread curdles in your stomach as Kyojuro’s father steps out of the shadows. His face is hard and severe, even as he draws closer to the fireplace adjacent to his desk, the light of the flames offering no warmth.
You begin to squirm against Kyojuro, who is bewilderingly still buried snugly inside your warmth. Your anxious little taps against his chest, his shoulders, however, do nothing to spur him into action, no matter how you urge him away.
“Now, now, my Flame,” your fiancé tuts, quelling your protests with a warning thrust, shallow, but firm enough to cease your squirming. “You cannot deny you’ve been tempting him.”
Across the richly manicured office, the elder Rengoku’s eyes burn in silent agreement.
“In fact, I seem to recall you mentioning how fuckable you thought he still was.”
Your mouth falls open in horror. Not only was it an exaggeration of what you’d actually said (he could still get it, don’t you think?), but you’d said it to tease Kyojuro. In private.
“And I think we both know this little dress of yours was intentional. You know how we love red.”
Shane burns in your cheeks. You did. You’d worn the red sundress to bait your fiancé, but you’d also done it knowing the significance of the color red in the Rengoku family. And while your comment about the fuckability of the family’s patriarch had mostly been lighthearted, some part of you had always been curious.
Perhaps Kyojuro was right; maybe you’d been enticing the senior Rengoku just as much as you had his son.
But there’s a faint tinge of jealousy in Kyojuro’s tone that has your heart thumping madly against your sternum. It’s the kind he rarely showed even when you were openly flirted with in front of him, whether the two of you were out on a romantic dinner or simply running errands together. A sort of dominance that only ever manifested when Kyojuro perceived a threat — a person whose eyes lingered too long, or when someone simply got too close for comfort.
It is that possessive anger which shows now that his competition is his own father. Perhaps he is hoping the elder will be exactly that — an old man, limited in his age and unable to satisfy you the way Kyojuro knows how. Though, from your blushing once-over of Shinjuro’s form where he waits across the study, you quietly think perhaps Kyojuro has underestimated his father. While he may indulge in his stash of fine alcohol too often, Shinjuro remains agile as ever, his body, strong.
Your curiosity flames, lashing at you until it can no longer be ignored. For every way Kyojuro’s personality contrasted heavily with his father’s, you could not help but wonder whether that opposition continued in other areas. Namely, the way Kyojuro’s switch flipped the second you got him alone, riled up and heated was in diametric opposition to his ordinarily warm and sweet disposition.
Because, no matter how gentle and kind and warm Kyojuro was, rile him up enough and he turned into a downright fiend when left alone with you.
Shinjuro, in contrast, was anything but sunny and cheerful. At best, he was a crass old man with a habit of letting alcohol loosen his already too loose tongue. Assuming consistency was a variable in play, perhaps that meant he would be softer; more gentle.
Despite your embarrassment at having been discovered, you cannot deny your own longing.
Kyojuro grinds once more into you before withdrawing from your heat entirely. You wince at the loss of his warmth, fingers clawing at air to bring him back, to cover you with the safety of his body once more, but he only steps aside.
“If you’re gonna fuck in my house, little girl, then you’re gonna have to abide by my rules.” Shinjuro’s voice carries that deadly sort of authority you’d only ever heard him assert when dealing with business, and it’s severe enough that you find your spine straightening in answer. “And I believe in sharing.”
Your mouth falls open as though you have any basis to protest when you’ve been caught red-handed, but Shinjuro cuts you off.
“That’s my rule from now on.” He looks to his son. “You fuck her in my house, then it’s free use. That includes your brother, once he’s an adult. Don’t like it? keep it in your fuckin’ pants.”
Shinjuro’s attention slides back to you, and a sharp flutter shoots through the pit of your stomach at the leering desire in his eyes. “And I don’t care if you’re here visiting with your future kids. I’ll fuck you once they’re asleep.“
Any cautious optimism you had that Shinjuro might embrace the softer side of intimacy flew right out the delicately arched window of his study.
And yet, your curiosity lingers.
Hesitantly, you lower your eyes and see the rigid bulge straining against the seat of his pants. It looks almost identical to Kyojuro’s, but from your quick assessment, it seems his father boasts a greater thickness.
The thought of how that thickness might feel, buried inside your makes, makes your mouth go dry.
Warm, gentle fingers catch your chin. “Only if you want to.”
It is a whisper only meant for you to hear, and suddenly, some of your anxiety eases. You know, by the burning sincerity in his eyes, that if this truly was beyond your realm of comfort, Kyojuro would cut it off without you needing to even utter your safe word.
With a light gulp, you nod, the movement almost as imperceptible as Kyojuro’s eyes become unreadable. But he says nothing more; instead, Kyojuro merely steps away, leaving no barrier between you and his father. Predator and prey.
Self-consciousness has your arm jumping to lock itself over your chest, a futile attempt to conceal what has already been exposed.
Shinjuro stalks silently across the rug, drawing short of where you’re still spread atop the edge of his desk. The shadows dancing along the walls of his study do not conceal the way his tongue flicks out from between his lips, moistening them, the longer he stares between your parted thighs. You clench around nothing under the heat of Shinjuro’s gaze, and his eyes narrow like he knows.
Some of that burning desire tempers as Shinjuro’s eyes flick to your face. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
The abruptness of the question catches you off guard, and you’re shaking your head before you remember to demand why he’s asking in the first place.
Shinjuro’s eyes harden. “You’ve had the nerve to fuck this girl under my roof and you still haven’t knocked her up?” He scoffs, turning his attention back to his son. “I impregnated your mother the first time I brought her here. Have you no shame?”
A quiet anger simmers in Kyojuro’s eyes. “She’s on birth control.”
“No fuckin’ excuse,” Shinjuro pushes past his eldest, his eyes locked between your thighs, still spread wide. “The Rengoku family is known for its virility. You’ve embarrassed that legacy. Go sit down.”
Wordlessly, Kyojuro backs away, his anger burning hotly on his face. He crosses to one of the great, stuffed leather armchairs to the side of the hearth where the fire roars and settles in, his eyes bright.
Shinjuro turns his ire back to you. “You see that ring on your finger? The one paid for with our family’s money?” And your eyes drop to the beautiful engagement ring sitting on your left hand, placed there by Kyojuro. “That’s not just a gift, sweetheart. Deal was you get the ring and you give this family your womb.”
Some fiery, rebellious part of you balks at that, overtakes your own common senses. “The wedding is still a few months away.”
“You think that fuckin’ matters? That ring means you’re part of this family, little girl. And being in this family means pulling your weight.”
He reaches for you then, and it takes a concentrated amount of effort to not flinch away from him, no matter how wetness pools between your legs.
Shinjuro’s fingers curl around your forearm, tugging it away to expose your breasts.
“Not bad.” He clicks his tongue. He palms one in his hand, rolling it, pinching it between rough yet warm fingers, as though testing it. With an alarming swiftness, the tension in your limbs eases, your body turning pliant and supple under his touch, confident and knowing. The faint moans trembling in your throat under your future-in-law’s inspections quickly choke off with a yelp as Shinjuro gives one tit a firm slap.
He smirks. “They’ll be better once you’re good and fat with a kid. What, with your milk and all.” He closes his eyes and shudders. “So fuckin’ sweet. I couldn’t get enough of it with Rukka.”
Shinjuro jerks his head at Kyojuro where he settles into the great leather armchair by the mantle. “He’ll like it, too. Little degenerate, just like his old man.”
He fondles you once more, pulling a small whimper from you that makes him smirk. Shinjuro eyes one of the hickeys near the top of your nipple, left behind by Kyojuro’s earlier attentions and with a faint sneer, he flicks it.
You gasp and arch into him, goosebumps skittering along your skin and you quietly present yourself for more. The way he continues to palm you — rolling each breast in his hand, testing its weight — leaves you with the distinct impression that you’re little more than some prized brooding mare and he, your inspector. That feeling is only amplified when Shinjuro suddenly grabs your hips and forces you back against his desk, maneuvering your body in different positions to see how you bend.
“Arches her back nicely,” he remarks casually, as though discussing something as tepid as the weather. “Feels flexible, too. But none of that means shit if she’s not fertile.”
Shinjuro steps back, his hands planted on his hips, expectant. “Let’s see what we’re working with, girl. On the floor,” When you don’t move, too frozen atop the desk and uncertain of what he’s asking, he nods at the rug. “Go on — present yourself for me. Need to inspect the goods.”
With shaking legs, you lower yourself off the desk. Cheeks flushed with heat, you cast one last, anxious glance at your fiancé. Kyojuro, however, says nothing, his eyes boring into yours as he waits.
You’re doing this; you’re actually doing this. You are willingly lowering yourself to the great, ornate rug sprawled across the floor of the study, knees first, and then your hands, followed by your forearms.
Your heart hammers away at your chest as you wait, ass held high in the air, your cunt on open display. A soft thump of a body lowering itself behind you is followed by rough fingers that spread your ass cheeks, forcing your thighs to shift and widen. The faintest tickle of warm breath fans over your heated, drooling center, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying out in desperation.
“Pretty little pussy,” Shinjuro hums with faint appreciation. Two, thick fingers swipe harshly through your dampened folds, spreading your wetness from your clit to your entrance. “Glad he at least knows how to get you warmed up. You’re fucking soaked.”
His fingers circle your opening, pressing against it just enough to make you squirm into the rug, but not enough to alleviate the nearly painful way your cunt continues to flutter and clench around nothing.
“How does she take it — oh,” you can hear Shinjuro’s leering smirk as he slips his finger inside your fluttering entrance. “Sucked me right in. Least she knows what to do when she’s got somethin’ in her.”
He pumps another finger lazily into you as you moan your encouragement. “Does she taste as sweet as she smells?” Shinjuro’s voice is faintly hoarse as he addresses his son.
There’s a pause that seems to stretch on for an eternity. “Sweeter.” Comes Kyojuro’s answer, strained, though you cannot see his face from where his father has crowded you into the rug. “Father —“
“I ain’t gonna taste her.” Shinjuro brushes off your fiancé’s warning, flippant. “Don’t need to. She’s ready for a good breeding, I can tell just by the smell of her.” A sharp slap of a hand against your sex pulls a yelp from you, and yet you can’t stop from wiggling your hips in a silent plea for more. “But you have failed your duty in bringing about the next generation of our family. You both have.”
There’s a rustle of clothing behind you followed by the distinct click of a belt buckle. “So I’m correcting it.”
Shinjuro’s fingers find your clit again, his quiet signal that he is addressing you even though he turns your brain to mush beneath his expert touch. “Looks like I’ve gotta show my boy how to properly breed a woman, since he’s yet to put his brat in you.”
Your stomach clenches. If not for Shinjuro’s leg wedged thickly between yours, keeping you spread for him, you would’ve pressed your thighs together in anticipation.
Shinjuro shifts behind you, pushing his pants down past his knees. Your curiosity is too great to resist, and slyly, you throw a glance over your shoulder, eager to see if your predictions about the Rengoku patriarch’s endowments ring true.
Before you can confirm, a rough, demanding hand ensares itself in your hair. With a hard shove, Shinjuro forces your head down, deepening the arch in your back. Behind you, Kyojuro makes some faint noise of discontent at his father’s roughness with you, but he does not interfere.
“I can only assume it’s ‘cause he’s not fuckin’ you properly. That’s what happens when you spread your legs for boys. They don’t know what you need.” He lines his tip up with your entrance. “Need a man to fuck you right.”
With a single, deep thrust, Kyojuro’s father bottoms out inside you.
He does not bother to give you time to adjust to him; he’s moving before you manage to choke out a small sound of surprise, one that’s lost to the fierce smacking of skin meeting skin.
“You need to— fuck — her — like — this —“ Shinjuro grinds out, each word punctuated with a sharp slap of his pelvis against your rear. The fat of your ass jiggles with every lurid thrust, and the elder Rengoku’s balls — heavy and full of cum that you know he’s going to insist on unloading inside you — smacks against your clit in time with his movements.
A responsive moan vaguely registers to your right, and with great effort, you turn your head toward the sound, eyes squinting through the stray strands of hair that have fallen over your face.
You spy Kyojuro, seated in the great leather armchair by the study’s fireplace. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright as he watches where his father appears and disappears into your body. In his hand is his cock. Its tip matches the color of his lips, parted as he pants against the languid pumps of his fist.
Shinjuro must catch sight of his son too, and it only spurs him to move faster; harder. “You like looking at her while she gets fucked, don’t you?”
You crane your neck further to watch for your fiancé’s answer, but a pointed slam of Shinjuro’s cock deep into your warmth forces your eyes back into your head. The stretch from him is incredible and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, even with Kyojuro; a burning fullness that is almost as uncomfortable as it is pleasurable.
Kyojuro must nod, for his father only scoffs in dismissal.
“Yeah, I see why. She’s a pretty fuckin’ thing, isn’t she?” A harsh slap of his hand against your ass nearly sends you jolting forward. “Bet you treat her like a little princess; too delicate to handle a good pounding.”
If you weren’t so fixated on the way your breasts scrape against the coarse rug beneath you in a dizzying blend of pain-tinged pleasure, you might have laughed. Kyojuro was an adventurous lover, and a considerate one at that. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to pin you down and fuck you when you wanted him to. Though, even Kyojuro’s roughest moments did not compare to the way his father now brutally fucked you into the floor of his study, his cock fat and heavy; as hard as steel.
Unlike Kyojuro, there is nothing loving about this; no tenderness. Shinjuro’s movements are nothing more than pure domination. He is not demanding your submission; he is forcing it.
The conversation between father and son is accompanied by a score of wet, sticky slaps of Shinjuro’s hips against your ass and the tiny little oh! oh! ohs! that you whimper into the rug. You soon find it impossible to fix your gaze on anything other than the diamond sitting delicately on your left ring finger; the way it glints and shines in the firelight as your fiancé’s father fucks you harder into the floor.
“That’s where you’ve gone wrong, boy. Fertile little things like this don’t want to romanced.” One broad, rough hand snaked up your spine to grip the nape of your neck, pushing your head down hard into the rug. “They want to be used.”
Shinjuro laughs, a harsh, jeering sound. “Just wanna be fucked stupid, isn’t that right?” His fingers tighten around your neck, commanding your attention despite the way he’s fucking your brain numb. “You just want someone to pump a baby into you. You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?”
The skin of your kneecaps burn from the way they scrape against the rug under your future in-law’s unyielding pace, and it’s because of that stinging pain that you’re able to ground yourself enough to manage a single, jerky nod of your head.
“Tch. Then why are you on birth control?” Shinjuro growls between vicious, forceful thrusts, his pelvis slapping hard against your backside. “You holding out on this family?”
Shinjuro draws nearly all the way out before he slams back into you, the blunt head of his cock bullying right up against your sweet spot. A slew of profanities pour from your mouth into the rug below, and your toes curl violently as he shifts his hips forward and keeps himself pressed right against it, stilling his movements.
You want to howl; he’s pushed right against the most sensitive part inside your body, one that Kyojuro knows will have you making a mess of both yourself and him after only a few grazes. And yet, his father, the bastard that he is, has the head of his cock jammed right against it, with seemingly no inclination of moving anytime soon.
Nor does he seem to care how you writhe and whimper into his rug, either. Your legs vibrate against the floor, and your hips move of their own volition, desperate for relief, but Shinjuro’s hold on your neck strengthens.
It’s torture and he must know it. “Answer me.”
“Not ready!” You gasp, your hands balling into fists against the carpet, your nails biting into your palms as the throbbing deep in your cunt becomes nearly excruciating. “We said — ngh — we said we weren’t ready yet!”
You cry out at the sting of a hand smacking hard at your ass. “You’re marrying into an old family, sweetheart.” Shinjuro spanks you again, and tears spring into your eyes. Yet, despite the pain, you only throw your hips back, desperate for more. “Money ain’t a concern. Your job is to birth the next generation of Rengokus.”
Despite his admonition, Shinjuro resumes his movements, easing back into his previous pace as though he hadn’t paused to start. You nearly cry out in relief, your hips circling and grinding against him for more, just more.
“Doesn’t matter, now. Don’t worry, you pretty little thing. You’ll be begging me to put a son in you soon enough. But until then —“ a rough, bruising hand snakes its way into your hair, balling it between his fingers. Shinjuro jerks hard on your head before he mashes it into the rug below, your cheek chafing against the rough carpet. “I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you. My son needs to be taught a lesson.”
Your eyes strain to seek out your fiance once more. Kyojuro’s blush has deepened to a fierce crimson, though his eyes darken at the way his father shoves you down into the floor.
Kyojuro is a passionate lover; while he can and does fuck you hard, he always keeps well behind the line between rough sex and cruelty. His father, it seems, toes that boundary far more closely. You can tell this bothers your beloved fiance by the hard set of his jaw and the wait his teeth grit together.
And yet, as the noises pouring from your mouth out of you slide from high-pitched, breathy whimpers to deep, sultry moans, and the study fills with pointed wet schlicking sound as the Rengoku patriarch continues fucking you without mercy, Kyojuro does not interject.
His hand only tightens around his cock; the tempo of his movements, only growing in speed.
Shinjuro’s grip on your neck loosens before his hand pulls back to rejoin the other at your hips. A low whistle blows past his lips. “If only you could see the way she’s creamin’ all over me, Kyojuro — filthy thing loves being used.”
He grunts appreciatively as he jerks you back to meet his rapid movements. “Does she always make this mess on you?”
A deep, rumbling groan is Kyojuro’s only answer, and his father chuckles.
“I figured. Look at her, suckin’ me in like this. Practically beggin’ me to fuck a child into her.”
A sharp smack cuts through the air like a knife, the skin of your ass stinging as Shinjuro cocks his hand back and spanks you again. Harder and harder he rides you, and the bruising ache blooming between your thighs is one you know you’ll feel for days.
Shinjuro’s next thrust is forceful enough that it lays him nearly flat against your back, his chest heavy and hot, dampened with sweat. The coarse hair covering his sternum scrapes at your shoulders as the elder Rengoku tightens his hold on your hips.
“You picked a ripe one, Kyojuro, I’ll give you that. Pretty little cunt like this was meant to be filled.” A hand winds under you, and Shinjuro’s palm presses flat against your lower belly. “With hips like this, she was made to give this family more sons.”
“Pussy is even better pregnant.” Shinjuro declares to no one in particular, his whiskey-tinged breath hot against your ear. “All the hormones and shit. Makes things tighter. Wetter.” You twitch violently into him as his thumb glides harshly over your clit. “More sensitive too. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
“You want her pregnant, don’t you, Kyojuro?” And before his son can answer, Shinjuro snorts. “Yeah, you do. Bet you’ve even beat off to the image of it — her all fat and swollen with a kid, tits leaking, pussy sweeter than wine. I know I would.”
Beads of sweat roll down the thick planes of Shinjuro’s chest and abdomen, staining your back. Each jolt of his body into yours produces a wet thwap that joins the lewd squelching your cunt as it gushes around his cock, as his body suctions to yours.
Teeth, sharp and brutal, nip harshly at your neck. “I like to think I’ve spoiled my boys, Y/N.” Your future in-law growls lowly in your ear. “They may not agree. But they didn’t want for nothin’. And I still like to indulge ‘em, every now and again.”
Shinjuro’s rough hand reaches under you to palm at your tits. “You love being a big brother, don’t you, Kyojuro? How about I put a new baby brother in your fiancé’s womb for ya? How’s that for a gift?”
You clench hard, your stomach nearly convulsing at how tightly you grip onto the thick cock bullying relentlessly into you right as Kyojuro looses a great, cracked moan.
“What my boy wants, he gets.” Shinjuro sounds so casual as he peels himself off you, straightening back up on his knees. One hand moves to press down on your lower back, deepening the arch of your spine until your ass returns to its position high in the air.
His grip on your hips tightens with bruising force as he resumes jerking you back to meet his movements. “You ready to beg yet, sweetheart? You gonna let me breed this tight little cunt? Give your fiancé a new brother to spoil?”
You hardly recognize any of the sounds pouring out of you, unable to concentrate on anything but the way the ache in your groin deepens, your desperate need to be filled becoming damn near painful.
Behind you, Shinjuro chuffs through gritted teeth. “Yeah, you’d like that, huh? You’d love walking around, plump and round with your father-in-law’s bastard, wouldn’t ya? It’d be your dirty little secret.”
There’s a frenzy to his movements now, the more Shinjuro becomes lost in his own fantasy. His balls slap harshly against your clit, the coarse thicket of his hair scraping against your raw flesh as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten. “Everyone would see you and my boy together and think such lovely things; a new family starting out. No one would know — no one would guess that you were pregnant because of how much you like bending over for your fiancé’s old man to let him breed you like the sow you are.”
The image of it — of you, attending some fancy gala with Kyojuro, happy and glowing while his father’s baby grows steadily in your stomach — has you throwing your hips back, circling and grinding with a desperation that makes your fiancé’s father laugh, harsh and bitter.
The sound only makes you clench harder around him. God, you need it; him, of all fucking people.
Shinjuro.
“Please, please, please —!” The request rolls freely off your tongue before you can think the better of it. Across the room, Kyojuro cries out, as wanton and desperate as you.
“Please,” Shinjuro mocks. “Please what?”
“A baby — give me a baby, please! Oh please please —“
“You want to give me another son, huh? Fucking mine isn’t enough for you?”
“Yes!” You sob, the skin of your cheek burning where it mashes against the rug, but you’re far too gone to care. “A son, please, oh please put a son in me! I want to be good, let me be good —“
You’ll do it, you’ll give the Rengoku family as many heirs as they need to know your worth; to know that Kyojuro made the right choice when he got down on one knee and presented you with a ring worth more than your own salary.
“Bout damn time you see things our way,” Shinjuro growls, and he shifts forward, planting one foot by your knee. “I’ll stuff you full.”
He bends over you again, his chest forcing your back to flatten, and you nearly drool at the coarse prickle of chest hair where it rubs between your shoulders.
The scent of woodsmoke and fine whisky clouds your head. “Tell me, do you think my son will still fuck you even while you’re carrying his brother?” Shinjuro’s eyes dart to where Kyojuro sits, his head thrown back and thighs spread wide as he pumps himself, a deep, drawn-out moan rumbling in his chest.
Shinjuro conceals his grin against the side of your head, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Yeah, I think he will. Your pussy’s too fuckin’ sweet to resist, isn’t that right, Kyojuro?”
“Yes.” Comes Kyojuro’s single reply, little more than a strained groan.
It’s too much; the obvious need in your fiancé’s voice coupled with the way his father so ruthlessly pumps into you, his cock stretching and filling you so perfectly as he hammers away all the right spots forces your eyes back into your head, your fingers clawing at the rug chafing your skin raw. The pressure in your stomach mounts until you feel almost ready to burst, every inch of you trembling as you wait for that familiar coil to spring.
Shinjuro swears lowly, once, sensing just how close you are to breaking apart, before he recovers.
“Just think, boy.” He calls out to his son, his voice boastful despite how he clenches his jaw. “Once her milk comes in, we won’t have to take turns having a taste. All we gotta do is sit her between us and each take a tit. Fun little father-son bonding. Whaddya say?”
Your eyes fly open. The image of it — of you straddled between the two Rengokus, both mouthing hotly at your swollen, aching breasts while your stomach sits round and full with a child that might have been fathered by one as much as the other — is your undoing.
Somewhere in the depths of the Rengoku ancestral estate, Kyojuro’s brother sleeps. You can only hope that his slumber remains peaceful, given the loud, cracked scream that rips free from you, burning your throat as your climax slams into you like a freight.
The coil in your stomach does not unwind; it explodes, blows apart in a mess of shrapnel capped with prolonged cry as your walls squeeze around your lover’s father’s thick, demanding cock.
“Oh fuck, she’s good,” Shinjuro throws his head back, eyes rolling into his head at the way your cunt seizes around him like a vice. “Harder, Y/N. Your father in law wants you to cum fuckin’ harder.”
One hand unlatches itself from its bruising grip at your hip, curling under you. Shinjuro pinches your clit firmly between the roughened pads of his fingers and your stomach seizes. A violent spasm of hot, searing pleasure rips sharply through your groin, sparking gush of sticky fluid to spring forth and coat the rug below.
“Daddy!” You cry out, too fucked out of your mind to fully register what has escaped your mouth; the slip you’ve made.
Daddy is reserved for Kyojuro — and under specific circumstances. Only after you’d been your most difficult, your most rotten, such that Kyojuro knew you were baiting him, waiting for him to pin you down and give you exactly what you wanted and set you right. Only after you were looking up at him through glassy eyes, so unbelievably fucked out of your head did the word Daddy ever leave your lips.
In a way, you suppose those conditions were present here. After all, it was your fiance who suggested you’d pranced around the Rengoku ancestral estate in your red dress to frustrate both him and his father. And Shinjuro is, in fact, fucking you halfway to hell and back, your brain having nearly liquified in your skull.
So really, he can’t fault you for getting your wires crossed.
Kyojuro moans back in response, and that single sound — a ragged, pleasure-delirious thing — only makes you clamp down harder around his father’s thick cock.
“Yeah,” Shinjuro snorts, his laugh dark and cruel. “Yeah, I’m your fuckin’ daddy, aren’t I?”
You continue to howl for him until your voice gives out, quieting down in time with the slow ebbing of your climax, your body turning limp limb by limb. When the last of your orgasm echoes through you, you nearly collapse prostrate into the rug. You would have, if not for the bruising grip of hands latched firmly to your hips, keeping you in place.
You’re only permitted to relax for a moment before Shinjuro decides it’s time for him to make good on his oath to fuck a son into you.
A single, long draw of his hips nearly pulls his cock free of your sopping heat. But before that can happen, Shinjuro’s fingers dig into the fleshy part above your waist and without warning, he slams back into you, hard and brutal.
Air wheezes out of your lungs and you’re forced out of your post-orgasm haze, yanked right from the clouds of bliss and dropped back in the study as he repeats the movement once, twice.
You scramble to find purchase, your arm flailing out before you as you scramble to find purchase. Before you can, however, one rough, callused hand wraps firmly around your bicep, holding you down against the floor. The other snakes to your wrist and wrenches that arm behind your back, pinning it in place at the bottom of your spine.
And Shinjuro fucks you. Hard. Even more so than before.
You’re utterly at his mercy; little more than a toy, bouncing between his body and the floor of his sprawling study as Shinjuro chases his release. Your legs will be rubbed raw with friction, both from the rug beneath your knees and your hamstrings where Shinjuro’s thighs press firmly into yours, his hair as coarse and wild as what grows from his head.
Behind you, the elder Rengoku’s breaths have turned ragged.
“Hold her — fuck — hold her down like this when you cum.”
Whereas Kyojuro’s climaxes are always accompanied by loud, strangled groans, euphoric and lilting, Shinjuro comes with a deep, snarling grunt. With a final, bruising thrust, fiancés father-bottoms out inside you. His hips shove heavily into yours, pushing hard against your ass as he presses his cock as deep as possible. The force of it bends your spine, making Shinjuro distribute half his weight between his hips and his arms where he holds you down. He comes as powerfully as he’d claimed you, his orgasm every bit as punishing and relentless as the rest of him.
Your eyes roll back into your head at the first spurt of his cum, your mouth falling open. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth, trickling down your cheek and dampening the fibers of the rug.
Deep; your father-in-law’s cock is so fucking deep in you, his cum hot and thick as it coats your womb. Distantly, you hear the pleasured cry of Kyojuro as he reaches his own climax, his seed spilling hot and fast over his fist as he watches his father unload himself inside you.
“Feel me pulsing, doll?” Shinjuro grits through clenched teeth. “That’s me puttin’ our next heir in you.”
The only response you can manage is a faint moan. It takes a moment for you to feel it; the tell-tale gush of cum that always leaks out of you after you’ve been filled, tangible proof of how thoroughly you’d been claimed. And it strikes you that the delay is the result of how deep inside of you Shinjuro had been when he came.
Deeper, you silently concede, albeit begrudgingly, than Kyojuro has ever reached.
But then it comes; a thick trickle of hot fluid spilling over where your bodies are connected, Shinjuro’s balls twitching against your throbbing clit as he continues to unload himself inside you. Dizzy with the pleasure of feeling his cum, so warm and viscous, you cant your hips back into his, mewling your gratitude.
Full; you’re so very full of your father-in-law’s cock and cum. So very sated.
There’s a triumphant exhale behind you, and you don’t need to turn to know Shinjuro wears that self-satisfied smirk of his, the one he always had whenever he successfully trounced his son in front of an audience. His hand releases its crushing grip on the wrist he’d pinned behind your back in favor of rubbing your ass where it circles against his base, though whether it’s out of appreciation for you or a further brag to his son, you can’t say.
The elder Rengoku holds himself in place for a moment longer, ensuring every last drop of his seed is properly deposited into your waiting womb. Only when he’s satisfied nothing remains, does he pull out, not bothering to give you any warning as your body spasms and winces at the loss of his warmth.
The air at your back turns cool, no longer invaded by his lumbering body. A chill snakes down your spine at the sudden draftiness of the study as the sweat glistening along your back and staining your dress cools. Some of your awareness — and your contempt — returns to you as the spell cast over you by Shinjuro dissipates. You focus on each muscle of your body, identifying what you’re still able to love as you prepare to push yourself up from the floor, when two, broad hands latch around your waist.
Shinjuro cares not for your small whimpers and whines as he forces you to turn around on your raw knees, not letting you rest until your rear faces Kyojuro.
“There, that’s a properly bred pussy,” Shinjuro announces with a not-so-gentle smack of his hand against your swollen, dripping folds. “Take a look, son.”
A derisive snort shoves its way through your nose. Of course, it isn’t enough for Shinjuro to have fucked his son’s fiance right in front of him; now he has to show off his work.
But do you resist? Of course not, nor does Kyojuro protest, panting as he comes down from his own high where he sits near the fireplace.
“See that?” Two rough fingers catch a thick bead of Shinjuro’s cum as it slides down your inner thigh. “You want a baby? Don’t let a single drop go to waste. Fingers or your cock, it doesn’t matter — just make sure it stays inside.”
You focus on calming your own breathing, relief settling into your bones as Shinjuro pulls his hand away at last.
A moment passes, undisturbed except for the labor of your mutual breathing, when Shinjuro breaks the silence once more.
“But I’m gonna let you fuck my seed back into her.”
And with that, he leaves you crumpled helplessly on the floor, departing only with a sharp smack to your ass, still held high in the air.
He motions for Kyojuro to move and confounding, his son complies, half-jumping out of the leather armchair in his haste, his pants around his knees. Wordlessly, Shinjuro settles into his seat, one arm folded behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand wraps around his drooling cock, still hard and shiny with the combination of your cum and his.
“Go on, boy,” the elder Rengoku juts his chin to where you lay limp on the floor, your red dress pulled down bunched around your waist. He gives himself a firm pump with his fist and his mouth settles into a leering smirk. “Show me what you’ve learned.”
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“So often we try to make other people feel better by minimizing their pain, by telling them that it will get better (which it will) or that there are worse things in the world (which there are). But that’s not what I actually needed. What I actually needed was for someone to tell me that it hurt because it mattered. I have found this very useful to think about over the years, and I find that it is a lot easier and more bearable to be sad when you aren’t constantly berating yourself for being sad.”
