Little Wishes 12
Title: Little Wishes
chapter: 12/20
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: KiritoXAiji, TadashiXRyutaro, minor: KiritoXKohta, Kirito X Asagi
Bands: main: Pierrot, Plastic Tree. Minor: Ka-yu (Janne da Arc), Dir en Grey, Asagi(D)
Warning: Language, abuse, sex, blow jobs, insanity, dictators, blood, asphyxiation
Disclaimer: I do not own these people and nothing is real...
Synopsis: Kirito’s a twisted dictator, straddling the line between insanity and debauchery. Tadashi’s leads the hope for the rebel forces, and with his own personal vendetta to take down Kirito will his plans work or will he become just another follower?
This chapter: Kirito takes his frustrated at the imperfect Aiji out on Asagi, blood, voyeurism, humiliation, and asphyxiation follow as both Aiji and Kohta are forced to watch.
A big thanks to: vampire_kiki
Previous: 1, 2, 3 4 5a, 5B, 6, 7, 8 9, 10 11
A note that I listened to nothing by Psyclone Nine while writing this…It helped with the mood. You can listen to them too here
Asagi couldn’t help but smile at the success of his plan. Maybe it was a bit wrong to purposely put Aiji in the line of Kirito’s anger, but he knew Kirito well enough. It was too soon for him to take his full anger out on his “precious Aiji.” With assumptions correct, he was taken by the arm and pulled to the bedroom.
Once across the threshold Kirito slammed the door, its force resonating throughout the home and that alone locked the two inside, for no one would dare enter. He let go of Asagi’s arm with a shove to the bed, the impression of his grip already turning his skin a corpse like shade of purple and blue. Asagi’s legs hit the edge of the mattress, feeling the soft cotton duvet against his skin from where his vinyl shorts didn’t cover.
His eyes were cast down this whole time, for in this moment he was the dictator’s dirty little whore and had no right to look him in the eyes. He knew how to play his part well, his gazed lingered from Kirito patient leather shoes to black trousers and finally daring to go as high to catch a glimpse of the hem of the matching jacket. Distracted in that moment, mind flashing with the sweet fantasy of all the glorious things Kirito would do to him, he barely noticed that he crossed those few feet and was now looming over him. A firm grip on his shoulder woke him from his daze, shoving him to the bed.
He fell with a plop on the pressed white sheets and Kirito mounted him, legs straddling his lower half. He leaned forward forcing his mouth against the other in an all too consuming kiss. Kirito naturally dominating, forcing his tongue down the other’s throat in a sloppy sucking of souls; Asagi, all the more happy to oblige the abuse. Moaning desperately as Kirito bit his tongue, it had been too long since he possessed him in such a manner. Asagi knew that each and every one of those pleading moans drove Kirito deeper into himself, and would eventually ignite the create inside that would do all those things he loved.
He arched his back, letting his hips grind against the other’s, but other than that Asagi didn’t tough him. Again he held no right, all he could only cry pleading moans for more. With a forceful nip to his tongue, Kirito sat back up, still using Asagi as his personal pillow, he grabbed a fist full of hair, pulling it up before slamming his head back into the mattress bed. He watched, tightening his grip just to see the pain etched on the other’s face.
“You’re such a dirty whore, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Kirito-sama.”
Kirito growled in frustration whipping his fist sharply to the left, taking Asagi’s head with it, exposing his neck. His eyes lingered down past the pale neck to the black vinyl shirt, it snapped shut with a rounded top cut just low enough to show where his collar bones meet at base of his throat.
“I want you to say it!” he hissed.
“I’m a dirty whore,” Asagi correct without waver, eyes looking to the other’s black tie over white collared shirt. Dressed so very polished, Asagi nearly moaned thinking about it. Thinking about how hard he might be taken, the pain involved in it, the other still mostly clothed above him, a symbol of his status he held above the other. Thoughts light ablaze his deep rooted fantasizes and he felt himself growing hard.
“I’m a dirty whore.”
“Again!”
“I’m a dirty whore,” he breathed, screaming as his head was yet again jerked, “Kirito-sama.”
“That’s better,” the dictator grinned, biting onto that exposed neck.
This wasn’t a playful love nip but full on bite, for he sunk his teeth into the flesh with no remorse. Skin quickly breaking, Asagi let deep moan spill from his throat as he arched into the other. He sucked at the wound, biting it over and over to draw more blood free. Asagi’s eyes closed, rolling to the back of his head, feeling the weight of the other on him, his clothed half-hard erection grinding against his as he jerked his head this way and that to deliver fresh bits down each side of this throat. He loved this, moaning louder for he knew this was only the beginning of Kirito’s aggression.
The dictator possessed a darker side, like any political did, though his might’ve been a bit extreme. Power hungry, he got hard on his control of those below him. Scaring them into realizing that he easily held their life in his palm; he wanted them to realize just how easily he could squeeze out their last breath on this earth, his earth. And all of this struck each and every dark fantasy in Asagi, maybe he was just as fucked up, but he didn’t care. Only Kirito could make him cum that hard, only Kirito drove him to new highs of pleasure without even touching him in a sensual manner.
Another cry of pleasure laced with pain echoed the room and Kirito pulled back.
“So fucking delicious,” he grinned, teeth stained crimson.
He got off the bed looking to the closet where he kept his box. He looked back at Asagi, neck marred from his bites and bruised from the sucking of his flesh. Shirt ridding up enough to expose his pale lower hip, his eyes lingered down noticing the prominent bulge in the other shorts.
“Undress,” he ordered, walking away to the closet. He really cared about watching the strip tease, after all he had seen Asagi naked enough to know what he looked like. No, this was about him and his stratification.
With Kirito gone, Asagi was left to himself. He closed his eyes letting out a long yet shaky sigh. He hadn’t been touched by Kirito since Aiji came. The dictator was happy, and that left no reason for him to get any of the attention. It was sad how far the lack of affection drove him to become the desperate whore ready to suck off any political in hopes it would turn Kirito on enough to give him at least a heavy petting. Sadder more to purposely piss him off, knowing that Kirito need him to shelter his true nature from Aiji, for only he got the full blunt force of Kirito’s rage.
Asagi wondered for a moment if he became overly sensitive tonight, even more if Kirito noticed or even cared that he did. He moaned to himself as he hands slid down his chest to the top of his shorts. He could feel his straining erection against the lined vinyl, scratching against him in a most euphoric friction of course fabric. Knowing better than to touch himself to relief a bit of that ache, he opened his eyes gazing at the ceiling, white, colorless. His hand drew up unsnapping that first metal clap on his shirt.
“Ah that’s right. I forgot that you like to be watched, don’t you?” Kirito’s voice was sly sending a chill down Asagi’s spine.
Asagi looked up just in time to see Kirito abandoning the box at the foot of the bed and exit the room.
“Aiji,” Kirito cooed coming into the other’s view, having quickly made the journey into the room, transfixed with finding someone watch.
The auburn haired male looked up. Less than an hour has passed since his lover before him and slapped him without so much of a waver or apology. The force so grave that even not his face was still red from the other’s strike.
“Kiri…” Aiji trailed off looking into the other’s eyes, trying to place what he saw there with the catalogue of emotions he knew the other possessed.
“You’re joining us tonight.”
“What?”
Kirito grinned, seeing it necessary to changed tactics to get the other to bend to his well. He tenderly brought his hand to Aiji cheek, the other shuttered as the hand drew close, but the warmth behind it he recognized to hold nothing but the love for him. Closing his eyes he nuzzled again it, wanting to feel yet again security in the other’s tender touches.
Voice soft in his quest he spoke, “Aiji, you love me don’t you?”
“Of course,” the other replied in a whisper.
“Then you know how much I love it when you’re vocal.”
Aiji let out a small groan from the back of his throat as if perpetuating the fact.
“Then you’ll understand that those same screams can only resonate from Asagi’s throat when someone is watching him.”
Aiji eyes shot open and he gazed blankly up at Kirito, searching the other’s face to see if this was some kind of joke. Surely Kirito’s love for him wasn’t something he wanted to share by forcing him to watch as he screwed Asagi. Yet, there he was asking, face showing nothing but sincerity. He felt his insides crush, this was worse than some accidental slap to his face; this was a hammer to his heart.
He gulped, “You want me to watch you with Asagi?”
“Exactly,” a pause. “You’ll do it Aiji, won’t you please.”
Another pause of silence and Kirito leaned down to whisper in the other’s ear, “If you truly love me. You’ll do this for me.”
Aiji bit his lip, feeling somehow defeated as he made the other repeat his request twice. Head dropping his head, his hair covering his eyes, and he gave a small nod. Grinning with his own stratification Kirito grabbed the other’s hand and led him to the bedroom. Asagi stood beside the bed waiting for Kirito’s return, daring not even undo another button until his return. Though, seeing who he brought with him came as a bit of a shock. Kai sure, Shinya maybe, hell even Kohta seemed like a more plausible choice, but Aiji was one that Asagi could’ve sworn Kirito never wanted to see his true state, at least not yet.
”Are you happy now you worthless whore?”
“Yes, Kirito-sama.”
“Now be a good little bitch and strip.” the words were meant for Asagi, yet Aiji grimaced at their harshness, finding his seat in a corner chair.
Asagi gave the auburn haired a light-hearted smile of reassurance before started to undo the final snaps of his shirt. Kirito watched, completely forgetting that Aiji was even in the room. He was nothing more than an accessory to one of Asagi’s many fetishes. Now this was Kirito time with Asagi and he was willing to pull whatever was necessary to get the other to cry out like he knew he could.
With the final snap released, Asagi let his shirt slowly fall to the floor.
“I can already see your getting off on this, aren’t you?”
Asagi let out a small moan as he brought his hand to the front of his of the shorts, his palm outstretched hovering over his erection.
“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself,” Kirito warned.
“Yes, Kirito-sama.”
Asagi fingers slowly unbuttoned and began to work on his zipper. Careful working each tooth down, trying not to pinch himself, for he wasn’t wearing any underwear as they always got in the way when dealing with Kirito. Eventually he worked down to the final tooth and let them slide down his legs in a sensual manner, exposing himself for them both to see.
“Good.”
Kirito hummed hand moving to Asagi’s hips, pushing him onto the bed. Immediately the submissive opened him mouth, arching his back, up while opening his legs over so slightly. Putting himself on full display he nearly grinned in stratification as Kirito surveyed him. His cock jutting high into the air, red from lack of attention, he was every dirty mouthed insult Kirito ever called him and then some.
Licking his lips, Kirito stripped himself of his jacket, and loosening the tie around his neck. Taking the black box in hand he brought it to the bed; one far off glance and Asagi salivated at the site, letting a deep moan pass threw his throat. Kirito raised his hand deliver a harsh slap to the other’s outer thigh, another moan echoed from Asagi as he knew what was needed to begin with, but chose to have the strike as a reminder. He positioned himself lengthwise on the bed watching a Kirito clamed on top of him. Taking off the lid to the bog, he dug his hand inside only to pull out a thin leather rope; Asagi letting out another small whimper.
“Already moaning like a wonting slut,” he laughed, taking both of his wrists in hand.
Kirito quickly made short work of the task of tying them together and securing them to the headboard. Moving to the edge of the bed, he parted Asagi’s legs, taking one in hand before hitching it to one corner of the footboard. The other went just as quickly and completely effortless. Yet, with each passing moment Aiji’s eyes grew wide. He never knew of this black box and the horrors surely contented within. He knew even less that Kirito could work so quickly to leave Asagi completely immobile. Above all, however, he discovered that Kirito marked the raven haired male just like him. All this time Aiji figured that since Asagi was an ex-militant and seemed to have more freedom than both him and Shinya that Kirito hadn’t tattooed his flesh. Now he knew that was wrong, for he saw just where Kirito decided to lay his claim on the other. With Shinya he picked his position to completely mar the beauty of his face, with Aiji to remind him that even if he jacked of he was still Kirito’s, for Asagi they were to mark his best feature as his and his alone. Not only one but both his thighs possessed those archaic symbols driven in by needs. Not wanting to let Kirito down again, Aiji bit his lip, trying so hard to obey Kirito’s command even though each moment grew harder and harder.
Glittering under the overhead light that shown down on the scene, the dagger Kirito retrieved from that box made Aiji gag in a coughing fit of anxiety as it connected with Asagi’s thigh drawing a long crimson line. Another and another were drawn into his flesh, like a game almost to see how much would spill out, for each one was not only longer but deeper than the last. Asagi struggled against the tight bounds moaning as he stretched closer to the blade, wrist roughly stinging from the taught rope. Kirito gazed at the blood, spellbound, watching as it spilled out from his thigh, sliding down to meet with the blood of the next cut before pooling and dripping onto the sheet. He brought his freehand onto the wounds, trailing his fingers through the blood, before deciding the cuts weren’t deep enough and went over them again with the blade. Asagi hissed yet he opened his thighs more with each and ever cut, trying to revel more skin, new placed for the sharp blade to come down and make him see crimson.
Kirito trialed his finger along one of the cuts before bringing his nail to scrape against it, making what was a clean ragged and red. With sadistic move, Asagi let out the most erotic string of moans and gasp of the evening. Kirito, however, didn’t hear them, no, the room was silent sans the high pitched ringing in one of his ears. Mesmerized by the red, the flowing blood pumping out of each of the cuts, he wanted nothing more than to see more and more of this carmon hue.
His whole palm came down on to the wounds staining his hand the precious red. Letting his gaze move up to Asagi’s chest he looked down at the countless scars of past encounters before pressing his hand down, bringing it up to see his bloody handprint. Kirito let out a sharp laugh, letting it echo the room for several moments before he regained some kind of composure.
“You like that don’t you? You like it when cut you open like a fish.”
“Yes.”
A cold slap to the face had Asagi moaning, and his blood lingering there as well.
“What did you say?”
“Yes, Kirito-sama,” he corrected, even if he left it out on purpose, to encourage more pain upon himself.
“That’s what I though, you twisted fuck.”
Kirito’s blade ran down the opened cuts as they started to loose that gushing feeling, hand smearing in fresh blood. He drew it up painting the whole of Asagi chest, stomach, and finally his hips with his own life force. Eventually, his hand moved up caressing his neck before forcing two of his covered fingers down the other’s throat, making him gag. He pressed further though, ignoring Asagi’s tongue trying to push the fingers out, tasting the coppery iron of the blood on his tongue. With one more harsh thrush of his fingers, Kirito pushed too far and the natural urge Asagi could no longer be suppressed. He turned his head to the side, Kirito quickly withdrew his fingers as he watched the other vomit, bile spilling onto the sheet, as that horrid after taste lingered in his throat. Asagi felt used, violated, like the lowest scum of dirt under Kirito’s shoe, and he moaned out for more, throwing Kirito into another fit of hysterical laughter.
Aiji shook his head, closing his eye at the act before him. He brought his legs up clutching onto them and buried his head between his knees. Kirito was possessed, for this creature in front of him wasn’t the Kirito he knew. With eyes closed and Kirito’s laughter still lingering about the room, the memory of that slap flooding back. Becoming clear, Aiji realized that the indescribable fire Kirito held in his eyes immediately following were the same eyes he possessed now. Silent tears squeezed passed tightly closed lids as a little voice couldn’t help but tell Aiji that this was the real Kirito and that one he was use to the water down version of the creature before him now.
Blood stained the bottom of Kirito’s shirt, his mouth and face covered just as heavily. He looked down at himself, seeing red. Grinning, he it wasn’t until now that he realized how hard he was becoming.
“I could cut out your heart and dine on it and you wouldn’t fucking care would you?” He grinned, gripping the blade in a fist in his hand.
“I’m yours Kirito-sama!”
He chuckled drawing his bladed fist high in the air and letting it come down, stopping it just short of Asagi’s chest. The panic look in the other eyes made him laugh even more, He put the blade down beside Asagi’s neck and grabbed onto a fist full of hair.
“Now if I did that whoever would I have to play with when Aiji goes away.”
Only with the mention of his name did Kirito remember that the other was still in the room, watching to encourage Asagi to moan more. He looked around trying to figure out where the other had gone. Once spotted, however, he hated the site before him, for Aiji wasn’t looked at all. The auburn haired male and completely buried his head between his needs and rocked back and forth, wishing he wasn’t there.
“Aiji!” He screamed.
He looked up tears running down his cheeks.
“Why are you not enjoying Asagi’s little show?”
Enjoy? Aiji nearly laughed, for what he felt was far from pleasure, more like sheer terror. Even if Asagi moaned each time the blade connected with his skin and even if he cock twitched each time he saw his own blood spattered on his skin, it was too much for Aiji. It looked horrific, and each time Asagi moaned to signal another cut, even with closed eyes he knew what was happening, Aiji cringed worried that maybe this time Kirito made the wrong move and caused too much damage. Even now blood spilled form the wounds, the bed sheets were stained far worse than what seemed like a safe amount to leak out of a person.
“Aiji!” Kirito shrilled voice yelled, once the other buried his head again in his knees.
He couldn’t look up again, and only let out desperate cry at the sound of his name. Kirito growled, leaping off the bed and quickly grabbing onto his wrist. With no choice Aiji looked up, but his gaze was caught, caught by the red that was now on his wrist. Another sharp cry as more tears filled his eyes, Asagi’s blood now on him too much. He was part of the scene, part of the horror show.
“Kirito, please,” he pleaded. “I-I promise I’ll remember next time. Just-just let me leave.”
“You’re watching this damn it!”
“No, please!”
He laughed, his grip tightening on his wrist, pain shooting through each nerve ending. He watched Aiji let out more tears, grabbing onto Kirito’s hand trying to free himself from the all too forceful grip.
“Please, please,” he continued to plea.
“If you’re not going by yourself then I’ll just have to bring someone in to force you to watch.”
Grinning at his own stratification, he knew better than just to tie Aiji down to the chair, as he could just as easily close his eyes to the act again. He left the bedroom leaving Aiji crying and Asagi moaning at the loss on contact, to high in his own pleasure to realize exactly what was going one.
Kirito came into Kohta’s bedroom, taking off his tie with bloodied hands. Shirt looking more red than white he saw his brother on the bed looking over documents or something. Once he saw Kirito, however, they dropped from his hand.
“What the hell happened, Kirito!”
“I need you.”
Kohta blinked running through all the scenarios in his head. This blood wasn’t Kirito’s or else he’d be more in a panic. Now this had to be someone else.
“Is it Aiji?” He asked.
Kirito nodded, “I need you to hold him down.”
“Hold him down?” He gulped. He hoped to never be involved in that situation, but if that’s what his brother wanted he would do it for him.
“He’s not watching, force his eyelids open if you have to. I don’t care. I want him to watch, and he’s fucking going to do it!”
Somehow Kohta was relived to hear that of all things. He followed Kirito back to the bedroom taking in the scene as his brother straddled Asagi’s upper chest. Blood soaked through the sheets, and Asagi moaned in a cloud of passion as he felt the other upon him again. It was bloody, maybe just touch more than usual. The only thing that was could be considered out of place as Aiji, sitting in a chair like a frightened child.
“Oni-san wants you to watch.” He whispered in the Aiji’s ear from behind, putting his hands on his shoulders, “Please don’t make me use force.”
Aiji gazed at the blond in disbelief. Convinced that out of all people Kohta would be the one to talk sense into Kirito. With a squeeze to his shoulder, Aiji knew a warning when he felt one. He shakily brought his legs down, grabbing onto the arms of the chair, breath still hitching with tears.
Kirito began to rummage through the box again. Finding another leather strap, this one was different however, a small cut to one end allowed for it to be lopped threw creating a choking leash. He grinned, slipped the rope over Asagi’s neck and tugged lightly on the cord, securing it around his neck.
“You know what that is, don’t you?”
“Tighter,” Asagi whispered receiving another harsh splat in reprimand.
“You fucking don’t give request!”
Kirito paid no mind to the small supplication that spilled in a dull mummer past Asagi lips. He knew that the male was too gone, to realize even what he was doing, the only think he knew was that he wanted more. Kirito didn’t touch the robe instead he undid his pants, out hard length. It glistened with pre-cum and he gave himself a few slow strokes before letting out a deep moan.
“You’re such a whore. You want this don’t you?”
Asagi nodded, eyes fully locked on Kirito’s cock, heart pounded in his chest he wanted nothing more than to suck him off. His breath was already coming short, muscles twitch, firing by themselves from the lack of blood that circulated him. Kirito sat up on his knees, scooting to the upper portion of Asagi’s chest, his dick nearly touching the other’s lips by he denied him that pleasure. No, he could get off if he allowed his prick past those lips and faced fucked him in even the most degrading manner.
Hand reaching back down to the leather rope, he grabbed it and with a quick jerk the other gasps became shallow, chest beginning to heave as Kirito coiled the rope over his palm pulling it tighter and tighter. His hand continued to work on his cock, loving the way that Asagi’s gasped became more gurgled with each pass of the rope. Even now he was mouthing more, in an almost disgusting manner, for each time he tired to take a breath the rope constricted that much more.
Asagi’s world was plunged into a colorless black and white. The warning signs where flashing, and in a way he knew what was next, he knew how dangerous it was for the rope to be this tight. That very thought, however, only made his cock pulse that much more. His heart pounded in his chest, ears blocking out all nose but the thud thud as it intensified. Staring at Kirito’s cock dick, slick from both pre-cum and blood, so very close he could almost lick it. Though, his limps were numb and the what was just a black and white scene not turned pixilated and then flooded his vision with darkness as without even being touched he came.
Kirito watched as Asagi grew limp. He wasn’t though, and continued his tight grip on the both the rope and the trust his hips into his hand. With a final rough thumb over his engrossed head he let out a moan, reaching his zenith. He came hard spilling his seed over Asagi’s motionless face. Without another word he got up, walked to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
Immediacy Kohta let go of tight grip he had to hold on Aiji’s head to keep him watching the scene. With this found freedom Aiji feel to his knees, hugging himself as he cried. Untying Asaig’s hands, Kohta didn’t care how blood was not on his hands and that he surely had just sat in bile. He held up Asagi, gently slapping his fast as he waited for the other to come back.
“Come on.”
Minutes seemed to pass with the all but silent room, Aiji was bawling, the huss of the shower heard through the walls. And finally Asagi opened his eyes, a blank moment before plunging back into darkness.
“Aiji, get Kai,” Kohta called out hitting the other’s face again. It never took him this long to come back, and the blond started to fear the worst.
___
Notes: Dies…why do I feel like I just ran a marathon? I have no clue how this was written, it’s blood, disturbing, and I made Kirito beyond insane.
chapter: 12/20
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: KiritoXAiji, TadashiXRyutaro, minor: KiritoXKohta, Kirito X Asagi
Bands: main: Pierrot, Plastic Tree. Minor: Ka-yu (Janne da Arc), Dir en Grey, Asagi(D)
Warning: Language, abuse, sex, blow jobs, insanity, dictators, blood, asphyxiation
Disclaimer: I do not own these people and nothing is real...
Synopsis: Kirito’s a twisted dictator, straddling the line between insanity and debauchery. Tadashi’s leads the hope for the rebel forces, and with his own personal vendetta to take down Kirito will his plans work or will he become just another follower?
This chapter: Kirito takes his frustrated at the imperfect Aiji out on Asagi, blood, voyeurism, humiliation, and asphyxiation follow as both Aiji and Kohta are forced to watch.
A big thanks to: vampire_kiki
Previous: 1, 2, 3 4 5a, 5B, 6, 7, 8 9, 10 11
A note that I listened to nothing by Psyclone Nine while writing this…It helped with the mood. You can listen to them too here
Asagi couldn’t help but smile at the success of his plan. Maybe it was a bit wrong to purposely put Aiji in the line of Kirito’s anger, but he knew Kirito well enough. It was too soon for him to take his full anger out on his “precious Aiji.” With assumptions correct, he was taken by the arm and pulled to the bedroom.
Once across the threshold Kirito slammed the door, its force resonating throughout the home and that alone locked the two inside, for no one would dare enter. He let go of Asagi’s arm with a shove to the bed, the impression of his grip already turning his skin a corpse like shade of purple and blue. Asagi’s legs hit the edge of the mattress, feeling the soft cotton duvet against his skin from where his vinyl shorts didn’t cover.
His eyes were cast down this whole time, for in this moment he was the dictator’s dirty little whore and had no right to look him in the eyes. He knew how to play his part well, his gazed lingered from Kirito patient leather shoes to black trousers and finally daring to go as high to catch a glimpse of the hem of the matching jacket. Distracted in that moment, mind flashing with the sweet fantasy of all the glorious things Kirito would do to him, he barely noticed that he crossed those few feet and was now looming over him. A firm grip on his shoulder woke him from his daze, shoving him to the bed.
He fell with a plop on the pressed white sheets and Kirito mounted him, legs straddling his lower half. He leaned forward forcing his mouth against the other in an all too consuming kiss. Kirito naturally dominating, forcing his tongue down the other’s throat in a sloppy sucking of souls; Asagi, all the more happy to oblige the abuse. Moaning desperately as Kirito bit his tongue, it had been too long since he possessed him in such a manner. Asagi knew that each and every one of those pleading moans drove Kirito deeper into himself, and would eventually ignite the create inside that would do all those things he loved.
He arched his back, letting his hips grind against the other’s, but other than that Asagi didn’t tough him. Again he held no right, all he could only cry pleading moans for more. With a forceful nip to his tongue, Kirito sat back up, still using Asagi as his personal pillow, he grabbed a fist full of hair, pulling it up before slamming his head back into the mattress bed. He watched, tightening his grip just to see the pain etched on the other’s face.
“You’re such a dirty whore, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Kirito-sama.”
Kirito growled in frustration whipping his fist sharply to the left, taking Asagi’s head with it, exposing his neck. His eyes lingered down past the pale neck to the black vinyl shirt, it snapped shut with a rounded top cut just low enough to show where his collar bones meet at base of his throat.
“I want you to say it!” he hissed.
“I’m a dirty whore,” Asagi correct without waver, eyes looking to the other’s black tie over white collared shirt. Dressed so very polished, Asagi nearly moaned thinking about it. Thinking about how hard he might be taken, the pain involved in it, the other still mostly clothed above him, a symbol of his status he held above the other. Thoughts light ablaze his deep rooted fantasizes and he felt himself growing hard.
“I’m a dirty whore.”
“Again!”
“I’m a dirty whore,” he breathed, screaming as his head was yet again jerked, “Kirito-sama.”
“That’s better,” the dictator grinned, biting onto that exposed neck.
This wasn’t a playful love nip but full on bite, for he sunk his teeth into the flesh with no remorse. Skin quickly breaking, Asagi let deep moan spill from his throat as he arched into the other. He sucked at the wound, biting it over and over to draw more blood free. Asagi’s eyes closed, rolling to the back of his head, feeling the weight of the other on him, his clothed half-hard erection grinding against his as he jerked his head this way and that to deliver fresh bits down each side of this throat. He loved this, moaning louder for he knew this was only the beginning of Kirito’s aggression.
The dictator possessed a darker side, like any political did, though his might’ve been a bit extreme. Power hungry, he got hard on his control of those below him. Scaring them into realizing that he easily held their life in his palm; he wanted them to realize just how easily he could squeeze out their last breath on this earth, his earth. And all of this struck each and every dark fantasy in Asagi, maybe he was just as fucked up, but he didn’t care. Only Kirito could make him cum that hard, only Kirito drove him to new highs of pleasure without even touching him in a sensual manner.
Another cry of pleasure laced with pain echoed the room and Kirito pulled back.
“So fucking delicious,” he grinned, teeth stained crimson.
He got off the bed looking to the closet where he kept his box. He looked back at Asagi, neck marred from his bites and bruised from the sucking of his flesh. Shirt ridding up enough to expose his pale lower hip, his eyes lingered down noticing the prominent bulge in the other shorts.
“Undress,” he ordered, walking away to the closet. He really cared about watching the strip tease, after all he had seen Asagi naked enough to know what he looked like. No, this was about him and his stratification.
With Kirito gone, Asagi was left to himself. He closed his eyes letting out a long yet shaky sigh. He hadn’t been touched by Kirito since Aiji came. The dictator was happy, and that left no reason for him to get any of the attention. It was sad how far the lack of affection drove him to become the desperate whore ready to suck off any political in hopes it would turn Kirito on enough to give him at least a heavy petting. Sadder more to purposely piss him off, knowing that Kirito need him to shelter his true nature from Aiji, for only he got the full blunt force of Kirito’s rage.
Asagi wondered for a moment if he became overly sensitive tonight, even more if Kirito noticed or even cared that he did. He moaned to himself as he hands slid down his chest to the top of his shorts. He could feel his straining erection against the lined vinyl, scratching against him in a most euphoric friction of course fabric. Knowing better than to touch himself to relief a bit of that ache, he opened his eyes gazing at the ceiling, white, colorless. His hand drew up unsnapping that first metal clap on his shirt.
“Ah that’s right. I forgot that you like to be watched, don’t you?” Kirito’s voice was sly sending a chill down Asagi’s spine.
Asagi looked up just in time to see Kirito abandoning the box at the foot of the bed and exit the room.
“Aiji,” Kirito cooed coming into the other’s view, having quickly made the journey into the room, transfixed with finding someone watch.
The auburn haired male looked up. Less than an hour has passed since his lover before him and slapped him without so much of a waver or apology. The force so grave that even not his face was still red from the other’s strike.
“Kiri…” Aiji trailed off looking into the other’s eyes, trying to place what he saw there with the catalogue of emotions he knew the other possessed.
“You’re joining us tonight.”
“What?”
Kirito grinned, seeing it necessary to changed tactics to get the other to bend to his well. He tenderly brought his hand to Aiji cheek, the other shuttered as the hand drew close, but the warmth behind it he recognized to hold nothing but the love for him. Closing his eyes he nuzzled again it, wanting to feel yet again security in the other’s tender touches.
Voice soft in his quest he spoke, “Aiji, you love me don’t you?”
“Of course,” the other replied in a whisper.
“Then you know how much I love it when you’re vocal.”
Aiji let out a small groan from the back of his throat as if perpetuating the fact.
“Then you’ll understand that those same screams can only resonate from Asagi’s throat when someone is watching him.”
Aiji eyes shot open and he gazed blankly up at Kirito, searching the other’s face to see if this was some kind of joke. Surely Kirito’s love for him wasn’t something he wanted to share by forcing him to watch as he screwed Asagi. Yet, there he was asking, face showing nothing but sincerity. He felt his insides crush, this was worse than some accidental slap to his face; this was a hammer to his heart.
He gulped, “You want me to watch you with Asagi?”
“Exactly,” a pause. “You’ll do it Aiji, won’t you please.”
Another pause of silence and Kirito leaned down to whisper in the other’s ear, “If you truly love me. You’ll do this for me.”
Aiji bit his lip, feeling somehow defeated as he made the other repeat his request twice. Head dropping his head, his hair covering his eyes, and he gave a small nod. Grinning with his own stratification Kirito grabbed the other’s hand and led him to the bedroom. Asagi stood beside the bed waiting for Kirito’s return, daring not even undo another button until his return. Though, seeing who he brought with him came as a bit of a shock. Kai sure, Shinya maybe, hell even Kohta seemed like a more plausible choice, but Aiji was one that Asagi could’ve sworn Kirito never wanted to see his true state, at least not yet.
”Are you happy now you worthless whore?”
“Yes, Kirito-sama.”
“Now be a good little bitch and strip.” the words were meant for Asagi, yet Aiji grimaced at their harshness, finding his seat in a corner chair.
Asagi gave the auburn haired a light-hearted smile of reassurance before started to undo the final snaps of his shirt. Kirito watched, completely forgetting that Aiji was even in the room. He was nothing more than an accessory to one of Asagi’s many fetishes. Now this was Kirito time with Asagi and he was willing to pull whatever was necessary to get the other to cry out like he knew he could.
With the final snap released, Asagi let his shirt slowly fall to the floor.
“I can already see your getting off on this, aren’t you?”
Asagi let out a small moan as he brought his hand to the front of his of the shorts, his palm outstretched hovering over his erection.
“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself,” Kirito warned.
“Yes, Kirito-sama.”
Asagi fingers slowly unbuttoned and began to work on his zipper. Careful working each tooth down, trying not to pinch himself, for he wasn’t wearing any underwear as they always got in the way when dealing with Kirito. Eventually he worked down to the final tooth and let them slide down his legs in a sensual manner, exposing himself for them both to see.
“Good.”
Kirito hummed hand moving to Asagi’s hips, pushing him onto the bed. Immediately the submissive opened him mouth, arching his back, up while opening his legs over so slightly. Putting himself on full display he nearly grinned in stratification as Kirito surveyed him. His cock jutting high into the air, red from lack of attention, he was every dirty mouthed insult Kirito ever called him and then some.
Licking his lips, Kirito stripped himself of his jacket, and loosening the tie around his neck. Taking the black box in hand he brought it to the bed; one far off glance and Asagi salivated at the site, letting a deep moan pass threw his throat. Kirito raised his hand deliver a harsh slap to the other’s outer thigh, another moan echoed from Asagi as he knew what was needed to begin with, but chose to have the strike as a reminder. He positioned himself lengthwise on the bed watching a Kirito clamed on top of him. Taking off the lid to the bog, he dug his hand inside only to pull out a thin leather rope; Asagi letting out another small whimper.
“Already moaning like a wonting slut,” he laughed, taking both of his wrists in hand.
Kirito quickly made short work of the task of tying them together and securing them to the headboard. Moving to the edge of the bed, he parted Asagi’s legs, taking one in hand before hitching it to one corner of the footboard. The other went just as quickly and completely effortless. Yet, with each passing moment Aiji’s eyes grew wide. He never knew of this black box and the horrors surely contented within. He knew even less that Kirito could work so quickly to leave Asagi completely immobile. Above all, however, he discovered that Kirito marked the raven haired male just like him. All this time Aiji figured that since Asagi was an ex-militant and seemed to have more freedom than both him and Shinya that Kirito hadn’t tattooed his flesh. Now he knew that was wrong, for he saw just where Kirito decided to lay his claim on the other. With Shinya he picked his position to completely mar the beauty of his face, with Aiji to remind him that even if he jacked of he was still Kirito’s, for Asagi they were to mark his best feature as his and his alone. Not only one but both his thighs possessed those archaic symbols driven in by needs. Not wanting to let Kirito down again, Aiji bit his lip, trying so hard to obey Kirito’s command even though each moment grew harder and harder.
Glittering under the overhead light that shown down on the scene, the dagger Kirito retrieved from that box made Aiji gag in a coughing fit of anxiety as it connected with Asagi’s thigh drawing a long crimson line. Another and another were drawn into his flesh, like a game almost to see how much would spill out, for each one was not only longer but deeper than the last. Asagi struggled against the tight bounds moaning as he stretched closer to the blade, wrist roughly stinging from the taught rope. Kirito gazed at the blood, spellbound, watching as it spilled out from his thigh, sliding down to meet with the blood of the next cut before pooling and dripping onto the sheet. He brought his freehand onto the wounds, trailing his fingers through the blood, before deciding the cuts weren’t deep enough and went over them again with the blade. Asagi hissed yet he opened his thighs more with each and ever cut, trying to revel more skin, new placed for the sharp blade to come down and make him see crimson.
Kirito trialed his finger along one of the cuts before bringing his nail to scrape against it, making what was a clean ragged and red. With sadistic move, Asagi let out the most erotic string of moans and gasp of the evening. Kirito, however, didn’t hear them, no, the room was silent sans the high pitched ringing in one of his ears. Mesmerized by the red, the flowing blood pumping out of each of the cuts, he wanted nothing more than to see more and more of this carmon hue.
His whole palm came down on to the wounds staining his hand the precious red. Letting his gaze move up to Asagi’s chest he looked down at the countless scars of past encounters before pressing his hand down, bringing it up to see his bloody handprint. Kirito let out a sharp laugh, letting it echo the room for several moments before he regained some kind of composure.
“You like that don’t you? You like it when cut you open like a fish.”
“Yes.”
A cold slap to the face had Asagi moaning, and his blood lingering there as well.
“What did you say?”
“Yes, Kirito-sama,” he corrected, even if he left it out on purpose, to encourage more pain upon himself.
“That’s what I though, you twisted fuck.”
Kirito’s blade ran down the opened cuts as they started to loose that gushing feeling, hand smearing in fresh blood. He drew it up painting the whole of Asagi chest, stomach, and finally his hips with his own life force. Eventually, his hand moved up caressing his neck before forcing two of his covered fingers down the other’s throat, making him gag. He pressed further though, ignoring Asagi’s tongue trying to push the fingers out, tasting the coppery iron of the blood on his tongue. With one more harsh thrush of his fingers, Kirito pushed too far and the natural urge Asagi could no longer be suppressed. He turned his head to the side, Kirito quickly withdrew his fingers as he watched the other vomit, bile spilling onto the sheet, as that horrid after taste lingered in his throat. Asagi felt used, violated, like the lowest scum of dirt under Kirito’s shoe, and he moaned out for more, throwing Kirito into another fit of hysterical laughter.
Aiji shook his head, closing his eye at the act before him. He brought his legs up clutching onto them and buried his head between his knees. Kirito was possessed, for this creature in front of him wasn’t the Kirito he knew. With eyes closed and Kirito’s laughter still lingering about the room, the memory of that slap flooding back. Becoming clear, Aiji realized that the indescribable fire Kirito held in his eyes immediately following were the same eyes he possessed now. Silent tears squeezed passed tightly closed lids as a little voice couldn’t help but tell Aiji that this was the real Kirito and that one he was use to the water down version of the creature before him now.
Blood stained the bottom of Kirito’s shirt, his mouth and face covered just as heavily. He looked down at himself, seeing red. Grinning, he it wasn’t until now that he realized how hard he was becoming.
“I could cut out your heart and dine on it and you wouldn’t fucking care would you?” He grinned, gripping the blade in a fist in his hand.
“I’m yours Kirito-sama!”
He chuckled drawing his bladed fist high in the air and letting it come down, stopping it just short of Asagi’s chest. The panic look in the other eyes made him laugh even more, He put the blade down beside Asagi’s neck and grabbed onto a fist full of hair.
“Now if I did that whoever would I have to play with when Aiji goes away.”
Only with the mention of his name did Kirito remember that the other was still in the room, watching to encourage Asagi to moan more. He looked around trying to figure out where the other had gone. Once spotted, however, he hated the site before him, for Aiji wasn’t looked at all. The auburn haired male and completely buried his head between his needs and rocked back and forth, wishing he wasn’t there.
“Aiji!” He screamed.
He looked up tears running down his cheeks.
“Why are you not enjoying Asagi’s little show?”
Enjoy? Aiji nearly laughed, for what he felt was far from pleasure, more like sheer terror. Even if Asagi moaned each time the blade connected with his skin and even if he cock twitched each time he saw his own blood spattered on his skin, it was too much for Aiji. It looked horrific, and each time Asagi moaned to signal another cut, even with closed eyes he knew what was happening, Aiji cringed worried that maybe this time Kirito made the wrong move and caused too much damage. Even now blood spilled form the wounds, the bed sheets were stained far worse than what seemed like a safe amount to leak out of a person.
“Aiji!” Kirito shrilled voice yelled, once the other buried his head again in his knees.
He couldn’t look up again, and only let out desperate cry at the sound of his name. Kirito growled, leaping off the bed and quickly grabbing onto his wrist. With no choice Aiji looked up, but his gaze was caught, caught by the red that was now on his wrist. Another sharp cry as more tears filled his eyes, Asagi’s blood now on him too much. He was part of the scene, part of the horror show.
“Kirito, please,” he pleaded. “I-I promise I’ll remember next time. Just-just let me leave.”
“You’re watching this damn it!”
“No, please!”
He laughed, his grip tightening on his wrist, pain shooting through each nerve ending. He watched Aiji let out more tears, grabbing onto Kirito’s hand trying to free himself from the all too forceful grip.
“Please, please,” he continued to plea.
“If you’re not going by yourself then I’ll just have to bring someone in to force you to watch.”
Grinning at his own stratification, he knew better than just to tie Aiji down to the chair, as he could just as easily close his eyes to the act again. He left the bedroom leaving Aiji crying and Asagi moaning at the loss on contact, to high in his own pleasure to realize exactly what was going one.
Kirito came into Kohta’s bedroom, taking off his tie with bloodied hands. Shirt looking more red than white he saw his brother on the bed looking over documents or something. Once he saw Kirito, however, they dropped from his hand.
“What the hell happened, Kirito!”
“I need you.”
Kohta blinked running through all the scenarios in his head. This blood wasn’t Kirito’s or else he’d be more in a panic. Now this had to be someone else.
“Is it Aiji?” He asked.
Kirito nodded, “I need you to hold him down.”
“Hold him down?” He gulped. He hoped to never be involved in that situation, but if that’s what his brother wanted he would do it for him.
“He’s not watching, force his eyelids open if you have to. I don’t care. I want him to watch, and he’s fucking going to do it!”
Somehow Kohta was relived to hear that of all things. He followed Kirito back to the bedroom taking in the scene as his brother straddled Asagi’s upper chest. Blood soaked through the sheets, and Asagi moaned in a cloud of passion as he felt the other upon him again. It was bloody, maybe just touch more than usual. The only thing that was could be considered out of place as Aiji, sitting in a chair like a frightened child.
“Oni-san wants you to watch.” He whispered in the Aiji’s ear from behind, putting his hands on his shoulders, “Please don’t make me use force.”
Aiji gazed at the blond in disbelief. Convinced that out of all people Kohta would be the one to talk sense into Kirito. With a squeeze to his shoulder, Aiji knew a warning when he felt one. He shakily brought his legs down, grabbing onto the arms of the chair, breath still hitching with tears.
Kirito began to rummage through the box again. Finding another leather strap, this one was different however, a small cut to one end allowed for it to be lopped threw creating a choking leash. He grinned, slipped the rope over Asagi’s neck and tugged lightly on the cord, securing it around his neck.
“You know what that is, don’t you?”
“Tighter,” Asagi whispered receiving another harsh splat in reprimand.
“You fucking don’t give request!”
Kirito paid no mind to the small supplication that spilled in a dull mummer past Asagi lips. He knew that the male was too gone, to realize even what he was doing, the only think he knew was that he wanted more. Kirito didn’t touch the robe instead he undid his pants, out hard length. It glistened with pre-cum and he gave himself a few slow strokes before letting out a deep moan.
“You’re such a whore. You want this don’t you?”
Asagi nodded, eyes fully locked on Kirito’s cock, heart pounded in his chest he wanted nothing more than to suck him off. His breath was already coming short, muscles twitch, firing by themselves from the lack of blood that circulated him. Kirito sat up on his knees, scooting to the upper portion of Asagi’s chest, his dick nearly touching the other’s lips by he denied him that pleasure. No, he could get off if he allowed his prick past those lips and faced fucked him in even the most degrading manner.
Hand reaching back down to the leather rope, he grabbed it and with a quick jerk the other gasps became shallow, chest beginning to heave as Kirito coiled the rope over his palm pulling it tighter and tighter. His hand continued to work on his cock, loving the way that Asagi’s gasped became more gurgled with each pass of the rope. Even now he was mouthing more, in an almost disgusting manner, for each time he tired to take a breath the rope constricted that much more.
Asagi’s world was plunged into a colorless black and white. The warning signs where flashing, and in a way he knew what was next, he knew how dangerous it was for the rope to be this tight. That very thought, however, only made his cock pulse that much more. His heart pounded in his chest, ears blocking out all nose but the thud thud as it intensified. Staring at Kirito’s cock dick, slick from both pre-cum and blood, so very close he could almost lick it. Though, his limps were numb and the what was just a black and white scene not turned pixilated and then flooded his vision with darkness as without even being touched he came.
Kirito watched as Asagi grew limp. He wasn’t though, and continued his tight grip on the both the rope and the trust his hips into his hand. With a final rough thumb over his engrossed head he let out a moan, reaching his zenith. He came hard spilling his seed over Asagi’s motionless face. Without another word he got up, walked to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
Immediacy Kohta let go of tight grip he had to hold on Aiji’s head to keep him watching the scene. With this found freedom Aiji feel to his knees, hugging himself as he cried. Untying Asaig’s hands, Kohta didn’t care how blood was not on his hands and that he surely had just sat in bile. He held up Asagi, gently slapping his fast as he waited for the other to come back.
“Come on.”
Minutes seemed to pass with the all but silent room, Aiji was bawling, the huss of the shower heard through the walls. And finally Asagi opened his eyes, a blank moment before plunging back into darkness.
“Aiji, get Kai,” Kohta called out hitting the other’s face again. It never took him this long to come back, and the blond started to fear the worst.
___
Notes: Dies…why do I feel like I just ran a marathon? I have no clue how this was written, it’s blood, disturbing, and I made Kirito beyond insane.