#dld.gojo

satoru is obsessed with your mouth. he doesn't know exactly how to explain it to you, it's something ingrained in his pervert brain that has him going insane every time he gets to indulge in it.

i mean, can you blame him? you just look so beautiful with his slender, pretty fingers between your plush lips, your soft tongue gently swirling around them. the feeling of it brushing against the pads of his fingers, the way you can take them so deep into your mouth, he's truly obsessed.

he says your eyes get starry and dazed, and the cutest blush settles on your cheeks, like you've got no thoughts in your head except the feeling of him. honestly, he's pretty sure he's given you a fixation too.

satoru, who just about loses his mind when you go down on him, with those sweet lips wrapped around the head of his cock, looking up at him through your lashes. you look angelic like that; he almost feels like he's corrupting you.

and the sight of your mouth open for him, tongue out? he could cum just from the thought of it - he often does, actually. whenever you're away for the night you can bet he's in his room stroking himself to the memory of you on your knees with that pretty pink tongue on display. watching you swallow him down so eagerly.

satoru's sure he could spend endless hours making out with you like it's the only thing keeping him breathing. your lips bitten a pretty pink shade, pulling away from each other with a gasp, and the taste of you on his tongue. he just can't get enough.

you know satoru gets off on humiliating you. what's worse is you get off on it too, and he knows this far too well.

"well? don't keep me waiting," says satoru, but there's nothing impatient about the smug grin on his face. he watches you like your embarrassment is the most wonderful thing in the world.

you, kneeling before him with your head down in shame. your hands- ahem, your paws placed all pretty on your thighs. look at you, sitting just the way he taught you.

all that's left is to follow his every command. i mean, you can do that much, right? you're not a dumb puppy.

"go on, speak."

half-heartedly, and with great hesitation, you mutter the word 'woof'. you barely even did what he asked and your cheeks are already burning with shame.

he tuts in disapproval.

"nuh uh, pup. not good enough. do it properly, while i'm still feeling lenient, hm?" he says, and it's with that tone you recognise as an indicator of his thinning patience. it forms a pit in your stomach, like an unspoken threat.

so with a little more gusto, you steel yourself and bark like a dog.

"there we go. good puppy!" he praises, excitedly clapping his hands. you want nothing more than to bury your face in your hands, or maybe a pillow, but even in his celebration he watches you closely.

"come," he commands simply, pointing a finger at the floor right in front of where he sits on the couch.

with less hesitation than before - like a good dog who knows its place - you crawl towards him. and the closer you get, the louder one thought echoes in your head: