Valo's Venus Doom

On a chilly October night in Helsinki, you were lying in the fetal position on the couch, stomach in knots and deeply uncomfortable. Ville, your longtime boyfriend, was due home from a work trip any minute and the house was a disaster. You usually had the place nice and clean for him whenever he got home, whether it was just a day in the studio or a month-long tour, you liked being able to welcome him home to a tidy house, a hot meal, and an adoring woman.

Unfortunately, that just wasn’t in the cards for either of you today. You’d been feeling poorly since before he left a few days prior, and the fact that he’d be coming home to a messy home, no groceries, and a disheveled looking girlfriend just made you feel so much worse. Obviously he was the breadwinner between the two of you, so when you felt like you couldn’t pull your weight, you felt incredible guilt; regardless if Ville never made you feel that way.

As you considered what Netflix show to put on while you waited for your pain meds to kick in, you huffed a sigh and decided to at least attempt to pull some things together so you’d feel less guilty. But as you shakily picked up the trash from the coffee table that had accumulated from the last few days, you heard keys in the door.

Ville walked in, backpack hanging from his arm as he dropped the keys into the dish that sat on a table beside the door. He turned his head to greet you and the smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw you and the current state of the house.

“Hi.” you spoke up timidly, discomfort painted across your face.

“Hey…” Ville began, his eyebrows gently furrowed with concern as the blackpack slowly slid off his arm and onto the floor.

You quickly cut him off when you read his face, mistaking it as frustration with you, “I know, I know. It’s a disaster zone in here, I’m sorry. I’m working on it.”

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve had a rough day.” he inquired, taking his hoodie off and draping it over the back of a chair before him.

“Not really, this period is kicking my ass, I’ve got two different doctors appointments this week that I’m dreading and the house is disgusting and it’s giving me a lot of anxiety and—” you stopped yourself short as you grimaced and bent forward slightly, cramps kicking into overdrive with the tension you were experiencing.

“Hey, hey, the house is fine. You remember how I used to live before you came into my life?” You gave a small smile recalling just how nasty his apartment was when you first met. Ville was a trash hoarding gremlin. Villle pulled the trash bag from your hands and pulled you into his arms. “I’m just happy to see you.” he kissed the top of your head sweetly, which made you cringe and you wondered if he could tell you hadn’t showered since he left. You’d been too tired and out of it.

“Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll clean up. Right after I make some food, I’m starving. Are you hungry?” Ville questioned gently sitting you down onto the sofa beside you. “Well, I kinda also didn’t make it to the grocery store either.” you admitted painfully.

Ville sighed, “Well… wouldn’t really make sense to go shopping at this time of night. Alright, I’ll run back out and grab some carry out.” “No… please don’t do that.” you whined, guilt bubbling to the surface. “You just got home.” “Y/n, it’s not a big deal. I just want to get back quick so I can get some time in with my girl.” he smiled, pulling his hoodie back on. “I’ll be right back, text me if you need anything else.” he grabbed his keys and headed back out the door.

You sighed, you never felt good asking anyone for anything. You hated feeling like a burden or putting anyone out of their way. He just got back from a work trip in Germany, and now because you hadn’t done anything the last few days, he couldn’t relax after a long day. You hated this feeling. Cramps be damned, you were going to get your ass up and clean, it was literally the least you could do to not feel like a total bum.

After about an hour later, Ville came back in, two large paper bangs in his arms. “Hey, I’m sorry it took so long. I decided to stop off and–” he stopped when he realized what you were doing. “Y/n, what the fuck….”

You were carrying a basket of dirty laundry and struggling due to the radiating pain in your abdomen and back. Unbeknownst to you, your face was flushed and you really looked uncomfortable. Before you could explain Ville dropped the bags onto the sofa and took the basket from your hands. “You don’t look well, you need to sit down.”

“I just– I felt so bad that you *just* got back and immediately had to run out and–” you tried to explain, nearly in tears, though you could barely keep your thoughts straight. 

“Y/n, stop. You’re not feeling well, you’re not doing anything wrong by taking care of yourself. Now go sit down, stop trying to be Wonder Woman.” he admonished gently.

He unpacked the first bag, food from your favorite restaurant. The second bag, a collection of items he clearly got from the pharmacy. “I picked you up your favorite snacks,” he explained each items as he pulled them from the bag and sat them on the table before you. “Gatorade, ibuprofen, tampons, some ice cream, and… this.” It was a stuffed jack-o-lantern plush, and cute as hell. “It’s a heat pack. Since you said your heating pad doesn’t get nearly warm enough anymore.”

You looked up at him with tearful, thankful eyes, “Babe…” you whined. “Thank you.”

“Of course, doll.” he kissed your forehead and went into the kitchen to put the snacks away, put ice cream into the freezer before it melted, and to get the food he’d brought home onto plates.

After you both eat and caught up on the episode of the show you’d missed while he was gone, he draped a blanket over you both and pulled you into his arms, “I missed you.” he muttered, gently kissing your forehead. You snuggled into him closer and just as you felt yourself drift off to sleep, you felt it; a gush. “Oh shit, fuck fuck fuck, shit!” you scrambled off of Ville before you hemorrhaged all over him. Evidently, Ville had been beginning to drift off to sleep too because he looked startled too. “What? What? What’s going on?” he asked sleepily.

You didn’t have time to answer him, you instead rushed upstairs to try to stop bleeding like a gunshot victim. You reached the bathroom and to your utter dismay, you had bled through your sweats. Ville’s sweats you had borrowed. “Babe? What’s wrong? You alright?” Ville asked delicately through the bathroom door. “No…” you replied, sounding way more annoyed than you intended to. “I just fucking bled all over myself.” You heard the door click open, “It’s fine, we’ll get it taken care of.” “These are *your* sweatpants…” you admitted with a mortified groan. “Oh please, I’ve had all of your bodily fluids on me at one point or another, this hardly bothers me.” “It’s going to stain!” you complained, trying to rinse them in cold water in the sink.

“Y/n… I promise, it’s not a big deal.” Ville reassured you as he turned the shower on. “I’m going to run you a shower, I’m going to start the laundry…” he trailed off, taking your bloody clothes from your hands, “and then I’m going to get you all comfy cozy in bed.” Ville reached into the shower and tested the water’s temperature with his hand, “Alright, perfect, get in. I’ll be right back.” Ville headed downstairs and threw the laundry into the washer and began picking up your dishes from dinner so you wouldn’t worry about them. He listened carefully to the upstairs shower, making sure he was up there before you got out. He popped the jack-o-lantern heat pack into the microwave and grabbed the ice cream and Gatorade before heading upstairs to meet you.As you got out of the shower, Ville was waiting for you with a towel open in front of him. You let him wrap it around you and it was warm.

“Mmm…” You moaned happily.

“I tossed it in the dryer so it would be nice and toasty for you.”

You tilted your head and whined, “Babe… you spoil me way too much.”

“Nonsense.” he quipped back, kissing you on your wet hair, “I love you, and I’m going to take care of you today, and I’m going to take care of you tomorrow, and every day for the rest of my life.” he continued, looking you deeply into your eyes before scooping you into his arms and carrying you bridal-style into the bedroom. He’d picked out some clean, comfy clothes and placed the ice cream and Gatorade on your nightstand. You dressed and he pulled the covers up over you and fixed your pillows so you could sit up comfortably.

“I’m sorry your home coming wasn’t more relaxing.” you said sheepishly.

Ville side-eyed you as he climbed into bed, “Apologize for another stupid thing and I’m stealing your ice cream.” he joked.

You offered him a spoonful and he playfully licked it making you laugh. “I love you. Thank you so much.”

 “When I say you've had enough, you've had enough. Is that understood?” Ville growled with your hair wrapped in his fist, bending your head back to look him in the face.

Your eyes stung with tears from your scalp being pulled tightly but you refused to flinch, you instead just clenched your teeth defiantly, trying to hide your trembling lip.

Your boyfriend, Ville, was 6 foot 1. You were only 5 foot -- on a good day. Tonight, though, he made you feel much smaller. His frame towered over you, you felt like a child being told off harshly by her father.

“Is that understood?” He gripped your hair tighter, raising his voice.

“Yes.” You begrudgingly answer through gritted teeth.

A startling slap whipped across your cheek, jostling a teardrop from the wells in each of your eyes.

“‘Yes’ what?” He barked.

“Yes sir.” You answered, swallowing loudly the sound amplified by your neck being bent as far back as he could to force you to make eye contact.

His eyes were angry as they bored a hole right through yours as you felt the two luke warm tears fall slowly down your cheeks. He was pissed. You had embarrassed him getting a little too sloppy out at the bar with Ville and his mates. He had told you after two double shots that you should stop, he didn't feel like babysitting his drunk girlfriend that night. But there was a slight twinkle in his eye now, he hadn't roughed you up in a long time and he was dying to unleash some pent up aggression. Part of him was happy that you'd given him and excuse, another part of him couldn't wait to teach you a lesson because his ego was bruised, and Ville Valo has a very big ego.

“Get into the bathroom now.” he demanded.

You complied immediately. You and Ville had a very spicy dynamic behind closed doors. He was a closeted sadist and you were a bratty little masochist who loved pushing his buttons… to a point. You knew to toe a very careful line because Ville was capable of unleashing true hell onto you when you couldn't leave well enough alone.

Sure, you could tap out. You could call your safe word and Ville would stop before the word even fully formed in your throat. You knew wholeheartedly he would honor your safe word at any time, but you wouldn't dare call it. You knew that if you pushed him to that point, you knew you should just accept your punishment without fuss.

Tonight was one of those nights. You were horny and drunk and wanted him to completely dominate you. But you had taken it a smidgen too far tonight. You had said “Fuck you, asshole” to his face, in front of his friends. Kidding or otherwise, you had embarrassed him, and Ville hated being embarrassed. He knew what you were doing when you uttered those syllables with a impish smirk on your face, but no one else saw it. To an outside perspective, it actually sounded serious.

Ville followed you menacingly into the bathroom. He pushed past you “Get undressed. Now.” his voice was scary, his tone was saturated with rage. He swung the shower door open with such ferocity you swore you saw the hinges begin to break.

Ville turned on the cold water tap and turned around to face you, “Get in. A cold shower will sober you up in no time.”

You stared at him nervously. He was scary tonight. Your knees trembled and goosebumps raised across your bare flesh, but despite the fear beginning to weigh heavily in your stomach, you were aroused. The crevice between your thighs began to feel hot and tingly.

“I want you stone cold sober, you're going to want to remember the lesson I'm about to teach you.”

“I'm fine–.”

“Get the fuck in the shower, Y/N.”

You nodded silently and began towards the single stall shower, bracing yourself to feel the icy water. As you passed by Ville, he spanked your ass hard.

You gasped, a tiny cry escaping your lips, but you didn't dare delay complying to his demand. You held your breath as you stepped under the pouring water but inhaled sharply and you began to shake from the cold almost immediately. There was no way to prepare yourself for that amount of cold. You hugged yourself tightly, legs squeezing together in a desperate attempt to maintain your body heat.

Looking up pitifully to meet his gaze, you notice his lips were pulling into the tiniest smirk as you noticed something in his hand. It was a bar of soap that he was carefully unwrapping from the packaging, one he had taken from a hotel room not too long ago during tour.

“Remind me, what did you say when I told you that you had had enough drinks and it was time to stop?” You didn't answer and so he continued “Oh don't act like you don't remember now. You said it so confidently in front of all those people. Friends and strangers. Everyone heard you. Everyone. You were so comfortable humiliating me. Huh? You like humiliating me, Y/N?”

You shook your head as your teeth began to chatter from the ice cold water pouring over you.

“No? You don't like humiliating me? Funny, it seemed to natural. You seemed so proud of yourself. So proud of being a bratty, disrespectful little bitch. So I'll ask you again; what did you say to me after I told you to stop?”

“'Fuck you, asshole.'” You answered, bracing for his next move.

Ville just glared at you, jaw clenched tight. “Yep. That's right. What a foul mouthed little whore you are, Y/N. Tsk tsk tsk…” he lowered his eyes to the smooth, bright white brick in his hand, running his fingers over it for a moment as you waited in anxious anticipation to see what he'd do next, praying it would involve a warm, fluffy towel. “Open your fucking mouth.” he interrupted your thoughts harshly.

You were stunned but you had no time to react before the soap bar was pushed into your mouth. You gagged but collected yourself quickly as you wanted to be as good as possible so he would get you out from under the cold water that was painfully stinging your reddening skin.

Ville bent down slightly, hands on his knees to condescendingly make eye contact at your level as if you were a child. “This is what happens to foul mouthed whores, Y/N. They have their mouths washed out.”

He continued, “You're going to stand there, under the water, soap in your mouth, until I'm done having a cigarette. If you move from under the water, or if that soap leaves your mouth, your night will get significantly worse, Y/N. Do not test me.”

And with that, Ville pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and placed it behind his ear as he exited the bathroom.

Ville was beaming with inner pride as he stepped outside and lit his cigarette, his dick was achingly hard within his tight black jeans. He was embarrassed a little by you, sure, but it had been a while since he had been able to unleash the pent up frustration he'd been harboring for quite some time. Getting ready to write and record an album made him testy, so he welcomed the chance to shed some weight from his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Ville only took 5 minutes to return from his cigarette break but to you, with the bitter soap overtaking your taste buds and the water falling like broken glass against your naked body, it felt like hours.

Wordlessly, Ville pulled the soap from your mouth and tossed it to the shower floor. “You want out?” he questioned, an eyebrow cocked. You nodded vigorously, and he watched you spit the soap remnants from your mouth, gagging from the aftertaste.

“Come on out.” Ville instructed. You reached for a towel and he shook his head “Nope. I'm not done with you yet.”

Grabbing your small frame effortlessly, Ville threw you over his shoulder and walked you out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Despite still shivering from your cold, naked body, you were loving this. You were still soaking wet between the thighs, something Ville picked up on shortly after he got you back into the bedroom.

Ville threw you down on the bed, and with his hand around your throat he roughly pinned you against the mattress, rendering you completely immobilized.

Surprised, you gasped for air, choking, with his hand necklace tightening around your neck and his other hand traveled south, between your soft folds. “Oh… oh wow, Y/N. You really are a dirty whore. You're so wet. Here, see?” He took his long fingers from between your legs and shoved them deep into your mouth, gagging you. “Good girl. That's right. Clean yourself off me, you fucking nasty girl.” He purred.

“You must love humiliating me if you're getting this much pleasure from my punishing you. We'll see how you feel when we're all done. Only one of us is cumming tonight, Y/N. The other is going to be left a swollen, squirming, pleading mess.”

That last sentence, so threatening and yet velvety, caused your pussy to throb with even more arousal. Ville, with one hand pinning you to the bed by your throat, repeated his previous action by plunging his fingers deep inside you, maneuvering them torturously, and then shoving them so deeply down your throat you'd nearly throw up. He did it again, and again, and again until tears fell from your eyes from the repeated gagging and denied orgasms. Your makeup began to run and smear, something Ville always found oddly attractive.

He sighed contently as he looked into your wide, teary eyes, he seemed so much more imposing as he hovered over you, “You're so wet, Y/N. Look at you. You can't help yourself. It's because you know your place. Where is that, huh? Where's your place? Is it beneath me? Shame you seemed to have forgotten it earlier, with that incredible amount of disrespect that you let fall out of your mouth.” Ville sighed heavily with a growled, his lust beginning to consume him. “Roll the fuck over.” He manhandled you from your back onto your stomach and then took his hands off you long enough to rip his shirt off his perfect tattooed body and remove the belt from his jeans.

Ville aggressively ripped your arms behind your back and fastened them together with the belt so tightly that your elbows nearly touched. You groaned in obvious discomfort and he chuckled darkly as he lowered his head to your eye level on the bed. “Say it again. I dare you. Say what you said to me again.”

You knew it was a trap. Either you didn’t answer and he'd discipline you, or you'd answer and he's discipline you for saying the phrase that embarrassed him publicly and earned you the punishment you were receiving in the first place.

“Oh don't tell me you forgot. ‘Fuck you, asshole.’ that's what you said, Y/N. What? You aren't brave enough to say it again? Hm, so weird. Okay, tell you what, our safe word is usually ‘cherries’ yeah? Well tonight the safe word is ‘Fuck you, asshole.’ Let's see how brave you are, Y/N.”

Seconds later, his large hand came down and made a loud crack against the tender skin of your buttcheek and you cried out.

“COUNT.” Ville demanded.

“One.” You managed to say as soon as you caught your breath back from the sudden pain.

“Two.” You said with a gasp

“Three.” tears stung your eyes

“Four.” You squeaked out “Baby, please.. FUCK! F-five. Ville–” your word quickly cut off by another blow. This time it took a moment for your brain to stop spinning. “Six!” You cried out. “Ville, p-please.”

“Uh-uh-uh, begging won't save you. You know what you need to say.” He goaded you before delivering another spank.

“Seven!” You groaned through gritted teeth. “VILLE PLEASE. Please. Please don't make me say it.”

“Say what, love?” he questioned condescendingly.

You let out a shakey breath, tears dropping from your eyes and immediately absorbing into the duvet. “Please dont make me say that to you again. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I was bad. I'll never ever ever say that again. Please. I'm sorry.”

Ville grinned with satisfaction, but he was quiet. You waited on pins and needles waiting for his hand to make impact with your welted buttcheeks again but it never came. Instead, you were lifted to your feet by the belt tied around your arms. Ville moved you effortlessly, for a man so slender he was shockingly strong. He controlled you as easily as he would a ragdoll. He pulled you in front of the large, ornate full length mirror that hung on the bedroom wall.

“What sweet words of repentance, but unfortunately, we're still not done. But maybe, just maybe, you can earn the right to cum. Yeah?” you nodded tearfully, making eye contact with him through the mirror. “Bend over…. That's a good girl.” He forced you to bend over, eye to eye with yourself in the mirror, as he held you up by the belt that kept your arms tightly behind you. The weight of gravity pulled at your shoulders causing you discomfort, but soon you felt Ville pushing himself inside you which provided quite a splendid distraction from the pain.

“Look at me, Y/N.” He breathed, and you complied making eye contact with him through the mirror again. “Good girl.” Ville groaned through gritted teeth as repeatedly bottomed out inside of you, your knees began to wobble.

“I never get to look at your beautiful face when I fuck you from behind. Look at yourself. Aren't you the most beautiful creature on earth?”

You complied quickly, hoping he would let you earn your climax like he had said. You looked into your own eyes, “Yes.” You moaned.

“Don't you think you're too pretty to use such language?” He asked, maintaining his pace while fucking you.

“Y-yes.”

“Look me. Fucking look at me.” He demanded, “Don't you dare ever speak to me like that again.” He growled, tightening his grip around the belt, causing you to groan in pain. “Understood?”

“Yes.” You breathed, “I'm sorry.”

In one swift motion, Ville flipped you around to face him and hoisted you up off the floor, against the mirror. The cold glass against your back and blistered and bruised ass was both soothing and painful, especially with the added pain as the belt buckle dug into your forearm against the hard surface.

With your height difference, when he leveled you to his hips and shoved himself back inside you, your face was buried into his shoulder and you cried out loudly with each unrelenting thrust.

“That's it, baby. Yes. Fucking take me in all the way.” He hissed through his teeth. “I'm going to fucking cum. Cum with me. Please. Please cum on my dick.” His voice sounded desperate, you knew he was close. Suddenly you felt yourself become far more wet, Ville noticed too and increased his pace until you spilled your juices all over him, legs shaking around his waist as you came. Ville began to cry out but surpressed his orgasm into a deep, primal grunt. Kissing you deeply, he delivered his final brutal thrusts and emptied himself inside you.

Ville rested his forehead against yours as he recovered from his climax, before slowly pulling out of you and resting your feet back on the ground.