another repost
This is what I came up with for my Five Acts for elizajet. A few very capitalized tweets helped me decide what to do: Nakamaru and everyone! Sort of. I picked the "bloodplay" and "BDSM themes" acts.
The Odyssey
Nakamaru Yuichi/various
NC-17-- Bloodplay and BDSM much?
I'm pretty sure none of these things have ever happened, or ever will.
Nakamaru really wasn’t sure what had started the whole thing. He thought maybe it had begun years ago, one of those times when he and Jin had been horsing around. It had been a playful bout of pushing and shoving that had gotten out of hand, the two of them getting a bit overexcited after a show and ending up in one of their hotel rooms, bed linens rumpled in their haste.
“Faster, Jin, I can barely feel you,” Nakamaru had taunted as Jin fumbled with his belt buckle, one hand snaking into his underwear as the other scrabbled Maru’s shirt up, both of them so eager for it. Grinding against each other, hands on each other’s cocks, Jin bit a little too hard at the tender skin stretched across Maru’s collarbones, breaking the skin, drops of crimson staining Jin’s lips as he pulls back in shock, Maru gasping sharply and unable to hold back his orgasm at the sight. Jin can’t help but finish, set off by the warm pulse of semen over his hand and Maru’s noises, but there was a guilty look in his eyes as they followed the thin drip of blood down the ridges of Maru’s chest.
Jin disentangles himself quickly, stumbling to the bathroom to clean himself up, scrubbing at the blood on his face. A few long minutes later, he slinks back out, a warm washcloth in hand to first gently wipe the blood from Maru and then to wash the cooling semen from his stomach. Jin is uncharacteristically abashed, brooding silently before looking away and only able to utter a thin “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” that he refuses to let Maru refute. Jin pulls Maru’s clothes back into some semblance of decency before quietly padding to the other bed and burrowing into the covers.
Maru’s conversation with Ueda shortly after that had probably been one of the most stilted and awkward misfortunes he’d ever endured. At least Ueda hadn’t given him any disgusted looks.
*
Maru puts it out of his mind. It’s been a few years since that time with Jin; Maru hardly hears from him, mostly (hopefully) because they’re separated by the Pacific Ocean. He knows that Jin must be busy; and anyway, Maru’s been spending a good chunk of his free time with Massu. Occasionally they fool around, and Maru really does trust him; he’s hoping he can tell Massu about how he thinks he might like to be hurt, made to bleed. Massu usually drags his fingernails down Maru’s back, but it’s just not enough.
Maru finally gets the courage to bring up his secret while they’re entwined on the couch in Massu’s preternaturally clean apartment.
Massu doesn’t look at him in flat-out shock or disgust, but Maru knows that deep down inside Massu would like to keep it as clean as he can, more content to exchange lazy and tender kisses than to fuck all rough and tumble the way Maru craves. He hopes his disappointment isn’t evident as they pull apart between slow kisses.
*
Maru does his best to forget about the need that sinks its roots deeper into his mind as the days and months pass. Lately he’s been spending more time with Koki and Taguchi, the three of them working on songs. He can’t help but keep sneaking glances at his piercings, wondering if maybe Koki would be able to help him with his problem. He gets caught a few times by Taguchi, who’s got an unusually knowing look in his eyes; however, as nicely as Taguchi’s treated him for years now, Maru still doesn’t have confidence thinking of him with anything sharper than safety scissors. The thought kind of makes him shudder.
One afternoon as Maru is absently gazing at the side of Koki’s head, Koki finally catches him staring. Koki ducks his head a little, muttering an embarassed “What? Is there something on me?” as Maru shakes himself and hurriedly reassures him that there’s nothing untoward on his face. A soft huff of air from Taguchi has Koki paranoid all over again, but all he says is that he’s stepping out for a bit to stretch his legs, a loaded glance pressing down on Maru as he looms over the both of them before leaving the room.
Maru feels a little bit like a rabbit caught in headlights as Koki focuses on him once again. “Is something wrong, Yucchi?”
Maru desperately wants to play it off like there’s nothing, but he desperately has to know if Koki is able to give him what he needs. He takes a deep breath, fighting to look at Koki and not the table, and blurts it out. “I think I like being hurt, you know, during sex, I want to be made to bleed and I don’t know who to ask and I kind of think it’s driving me to distraction and I was just wondering if maybe you could help me, I mean, I know it’s weird and all but I trust you and it’s something I really want to try, I haven’t found anyone who’ll really do anything like that...” The torrent of words trickles to a halt as Maru finally succumbs to staring at the table, a crimson flush rising in his cheeks.
Maru misses the way Koki’s jaw goes slack at first, then he collects himself before reaching a hand across the table to reassure him as he speaks, choosing his words carefully. “Yucchi, I understand what you’re saying. I can try, if you want. Do you have anything specific you’d like to try?” Maru looks up, shakes his head mutely, glances back down. “Well, then, Yucchi, tell me when and I’ll get something set up, okay?”
Maru nods again, and almost jumps when the door opens and Taguchi re-enters. Hopefully he wasn’t listening at the door, though Maru suspects he did, if the smug look on his face is anything to go by.
*
A few weeks later, Maru has screwed up his courage, and is finally going to get what he needs, he hopes. He waits awkwardly for Koki to answer the door, clenching his hands into fists to try and focus on not just turning around and fleeing.
Koki comes to the door at last, looking a little nervous as he invites Maru in. Koki gestures for Maru to follow him to the living room, face serious as he looks at Maru. “Yucchi, I need to know if I go too far or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop, but only if it’s your safe word-- I won’t stop if you just tell me ‘no’ or ‘don’t’ or ‘stop.’ You understand, right, Yucchi?”
Maru nods, “If I say ‘aardvark’ I want you to stop, okay?” He feels as ready as he’ll ever be.
Koki nods, taking his hand as he leads him to his bedroom. Maru is surprised to see restraints at the corners of the bed and some kind of ominous looking tray on the bedside table. As Maru gets closer, he sees that there are wrapped hypodermic needle tips, and antiseptic wipes, and for some reason, a spool of black thread. He’s beginning to get even more anxious, but Koki’s arms wrap gently around him from behind, lightly squeezing him before gently pulling his shirt over his head and returning to unfasten his pants, pushing underwear and all to the floor and then urging him to lay down on his back. Koki climbs up and straddles Maru’s waist, caressing his wrists as he gently guides them to the waiting cuffs, kissing each one before he buckles them closed. “Yucchi, I need you to stay as still as you can for me. You’ll be just fine.”
Maru nods, not trusting his voice to work correctly. Koki speaks again. “I’m going to use those needles to pierce through your skin, but they won’t be in for very long. First I’m going to clean your skin, and then I’m going to put gloves on and open up a needle, and press it through just a little bit of your skin. The thread is something I’d like to try, but only if you’re okay with it. How are you doing so far, Yucchi?”
Maru’s breath is barely a whisper. “I’m fine Koki. Please go on.” He manages to look directly at Koki as he says this, nervousness slowly receding. Koki pulls back, adjusting his seat on Maru as he carefully pulls the tray closer, pulling on a pair of latex gloves and tearing open one of the wipes. The alcohol in it chills his skin as it dries, but he manages to keep from squirming as Koki swipes it down the middle of his chest thoroughly, then disposes of it in a plastic bottle on the bedside table.
Koki picks up one of the wrapped needles next, peeling apart the wrapper to pull out the needle and holding it up for Maru to see. “This one is 24 gauge, the purple plastic end is how you know what size it is. Even though the number sounds big, this is really kind of the middle size. It’s not too big but it’s not so thin that you won’t feel anything. I’m going to pinch a bit of your skin up, and I want you to take a breath and release it on the count of three when I slide the needle in. Alright?”
Maru nods, then sucks in a breath as Koki pinches a patch of skin to the right of his chest. Koki counts to three and slides the needle in as Maru releases his breath in surprise; he’d felt only a tiny prick but was acutely aware of how intimate it felt, completely different from anything he’d ever felt before. Koki murmured his encouragement as he opened another wrapper, and repeating the process to the left of his chest. Koki continues gently, occassionally checking in with Maru as his gaze becomes steadily relaxed, eyelids drooping a bit.
Satisfied with the ten needles he’s arranged, Koki reaches for the thread, ripping off a suitable length and gingerly centering it below the bottom needles’ plastic ends, slowly crisscrossing them all the way to the top and tying the ends in a bow. He pulls away reluctantly and surreptitiously reaches for his phone, hoping that he can find it and if Maru will allow him to take a picture. He’d really love to be able to enjoy it later.
Gently Koki pulls out each needle tip, disposing of them in the plastic bottle. Maru comes back to feeling the coldness of another antibacterial wipe. Then he feels the slightly slick touch of an ointment trailing down the places that had been penetrated, Koki’s voice in his ear. “You did so well, Yucchi, I’m very proud of you.” With those words, Koki trailed fingers up Maru’s arms to unbuckle the cuffs, pulling his arms down and rubbing them before getting off of the bed and disrobing before climbing back into bed, pulling Maru into the circle of his arms. In the morning, he’s a little confused by waking up tangled not only in Koki’s arms, but also Taguchi’s wrapped around them both.
*
Maru’s need seems to be sated; however, it’s not long before he’s feeling restless with the need to be hurt again. What Koki had done for him had been amazing, but Maru still felt like having a good, hard fuck with someone.
He was completely surprised when Kame approached him one day after work and told him in no uncertain terms that they were going out to meet a friend, whether Maru wanted to or not. Something tiny inside himself, probably the same thing that made him want to be hurt, urged him to go along with whatever Kame wanted.
Needless to say, he was completely surprised when they got out of the car in front of a posh apartment building. He kept his mouth shut partly out of curiosity, and partly because the way Kame strode ahead of him seemed to radiate his need for Maru to shut up and follow him.
Kame comes to a halt in front of one of the many doors in the hallway they’ve emerged on, a glance shooting over his shoulder implying that he should hang back and stay quiet. When the door opens to reveal Kuroki Meisa clad in an almost indecently short black dress, Maru has to fight to follow Kame, and to keep his eyes anywhere that’s safe, most definitely not the tops of Meisa’s creamy thighs or how her cleavage is pushed up and almost spilling out of the slip of a dress. “Sit,” she orders imperiously, the tone compelling Maru to comply as quickly as he can, still doing his best to keep from ogling her outright. Kame leisurely takes a seat on the sofa, just as casually pressing on Maru’s shoulder to urge him to slide to his knees in the floor.
Maru realizes he’s been set up, that traitor Taguchi must’ve said something about it to Kame, or maybe even Koki. He doesn’t think Ueda would punk him like this, but there’s a tiny seed of gratitude once he gets past the shock of realizing his whole band knows his secret now, and are helping him in their own way. Kame finally speaks up. “Meisa, I know I’ve told you about Nakamaru-kun’s problem. I really think it would help him, and the rest of us, out, if you were to... help him. I don’t mean to imply that I think you’re a whore; but I would love to know if you’d allow me the pleasure of taking you shopping or something next time we meet up in exchange for your spending some time with Nakamaru-kun. His safe word is ‘green peas.’” Maru couldn’t help but cringe as Kame said all this, then stood up from the couch and left him there, all alone.
Meisa lets him stew in silence for a few minutes before taking a seat in a plush chair and finally addressing him. “Nakamaru-kun, I hear that you really feel the need to be... dominated. I don’t know why you were sniffing around your bandmates, since obviously they didn’t turn out to be so helpful. You could have saved yourself a lot of time had you just sucked it up and realized what you need. Luckily, you have me now. Now come over here, hands and knees only.”
Maru sucks in a breath, following her instructions and going a step further by not looking up. He’s not sure he can survive Meisa’s lethal dress. His plan of not directly looking at her doesn’t actually work that well, since as soon as he’s within her reach, she slides one daintily manicured hand into his hair and pulls, forcing him to look up at her.
“I think you know what’s coming next,” Meisa smirks down at him. His eyes go wide as he connects the dots and she spreads her thighs wide open; Maru thinks he squeaks when he realizes she’s not even wearing any panties. He doesn’t have time to think about it much longer as she uses her grip to close the distance between him and her labia, nor be shocked when she looks down at him, uttering the filthiest thing he’s ever heard a woman say. “Well, go on. It’s not going to lick itself.”
Maru swallows thickly, leaning forward tentatively, tongue flicking out and sweeping along the outer lips. The grip on his hair tightens in warning and he hastily brings his hands up to assist, fingers spreading Meisa open as he returns for a deeper swipe of his tongue, pressing it against her clit as he slides two fingers inside, taking her tiny gasp as approval to go faster. He slides his tongue down to where his fingers are and pulls them out in favor of tongue-fucking her as best he can in his current position. Meisa allows him to continue, seeming not to have lost her composure at all as she wrenches Maru away from her dripping wet pussy, standing up and presumably walking to her bedroom, snapping her fingers for Maru to follow.
He decides it’s probably best for him to stay on his hands and knees as he follows her, a warm blossom of happiness in his chest when she looks down at him, hands on his knees as he waits for her next order. It’s not long before she utters one of the best things Maru has heard in the last half-hour: “Strip.”
He eagerly yanks his shirt off and undoes his pants, glancing up as she beckons for him to stand up. He lets his pants fall to the floor as he stands. “On the bed, on your back,” is all that Meisa says, turning away from him to pull something from her dresser drawer. “Clasp your hands together, get ready to count,” are her next words, Maru’s eyes widening in shock as she returns with a riding crop, ominously swishing it.
It strikes down without warning across Maru’s chest, his eyes watering but remembering to count the first blow, all the way to ten, when finally she takes mercy on him, nearly reduced to tears not only from the angry red welts raised on his chest but his iron hard erection, which Meisa takes a moment to playfully and thankfully lightly trail the crop across before tossing it aside and pulling a condom from her bedside table and efficiently rolling it onto Maru. She strokes him firmly for just a second before climbing astride and slowly sinking onto his cock, just sitting there until Maru is really about to cry from sheer frustration. “Beg for it,” is all that Meisa says, smirking at his inability to get any leverage.
“Please, Meisa, I want to come! I need to so badly, I need to feel you, please ride me, take what you want from me!” Maru’s face is flushed with exertion, his shame long since gone.
Meisa remains still for just a few moments longer before shallowly rocking her hips, allowing Maru a short time to adjust, and then she’s off taking him for a ride like he’d just begged for, better than he imagined. Her pace is brutal, but Maru still comes when she grinds down too soon for his taste, her fingers rubbing her clit frantically as she screams out her orgasm as well.
Meisa rolls off of Maru quickly, a more genuine smile on her face now than when they had started. “Such a good boy, Nakamaru-kun,” she says quietly. “Now, get up and take a damn shower.”
Really, Maru can’t think of any ways that will substantially pay off his debt to Kame. Maybe he could do some sort of favor for Kame; Maru was sure he’d be open to the idea he had in mind.
The Odyssey
Nakamaru Yuichi/various
NC-17-- Bloodplay and BDSM much?
I'm pretty sure none of these things have ever happened, or ever will.
Nakamaru really wasn’t sure what had started the whole thing. He thought maybe it had begun years ago, one of those times when he and Jin had been horsing around. It had been a playful bout of pushing and shoving that had gotten out of hand, the two of them getting a bit overexcited after a show and ending up in one of their hotel rooms, bed linens rumpled in their haste.
“Faster, Jin, I can barely feel you,” Nakamaru had taunted as Jin fumbled with his belt buckle, one hand snaking into his underwear as the other scrabbled Maru’s shirt up, both of them so eager for it. Grinding against each other, hands on each other’s cocks, Jin bit a little too hard at the tender skin stretched across Maru’s collarbones, breaking the skin, drops of crimson staining Jin’s lips as he pulls back in shock, Maru gasping sharply and unable to hold back his orgasm at the sight. Jin can’t help but finish, set off by the warm pulse of semen over his hand and Maru’s noises, but there was a guilty look in his eyes as they followed the thin drip of blood down the ridges of Maru’s chest.
Jin disentangles himself quickly, stumbling to the bathroom to clean himself up, scrubbing at the blood on his face. A few long minutes later, he slinks back out, a warm washcloth in hand to first gently wipe the blood from Maru and then to wash the cooling semen from his stomach. Jin is uncharacteristically abashed, brooding silently before looking away and only able to utter a thin “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” that he refuses to let Maru refute. Jin pulls Maru’s clothes back into some semblance of decency before quietly padding to the other bed and burrowing into the covers.
Maru’s conversation with Ueda shortly after that had probably been one of the most stilted and awkward misfortunes he’d ever endured. At least Ueda hadn’t given him any disgusted looks.
*
Maru puts it out of his mind. It’s been a few years since that time with Jin; Maru hardly hears from him, mostly (hopefully) because they’re separated by the Pacific Ocean. He knows that Jin must be busy; and anyway, Maru’s been spending a good chunk of his free time with Massu. Occasionally they fool around, and Maru really does trust him; he’s hoping he can tell Massu about how he thinks he might like to be hurt, made to bleed. Massu usually drags his fingernails down Maru’s back, but it’s just not enough.
Maru finally gets the courage to bring up his secret while they’re entwined on the couch in Massu’s preternaturally clean apartment.
Massu doesn’t look at him in flat-out shock or disgust, but Maru knows that deep down inside Massu would like to keep it as clean as he can, more content to exchange lazy and tender kisses than to fuck all rough and tumble the way Maru craves. He hopes his disappointment isn’t evident as they pull apart between slow kisses.
*
Maru does his best to forget about the need that sinks its roots deeper into his mind as the days and months pass. Lately he’s been spending more time with Koki and Taguchi, the three of them working on songs. He can’t help but keep sneaking glances at his piercings, wondering if maybe Koki would be able to help him with his problem. He gets caught a few times by Taguchi, who’s got an unusually knowing look in his eyes; however, as nicely as Taguchi’s treated him for years now, Maru still doesn’t have confidence thinking of him with anything sharper than safety scissors. The thought kind of makes him shudder.
One afternoon as Maru is absently gazing at the side of Koki’s head, Koki finally catches him staring. Koki ducks his head a little, muttering an embarassed “What? Is there something on me?” as Maru shakes himself and hurriedly reassures him that there’s nothing untoward on his face. A soft huff of air from Taguchi has Koki paranoid all over again, but all he says is that he’s stepping out for a bit to stretch his legs, a loaded glance pressing down on Maru as he looms over the both of them before leaving the room.
Maru feels a little bit like a rabbit caught in headlights as Koki focuses on him once again. “Is something wrong, Yucchi?”
Maru desperately wants to play it off like there’s nothing, but he desperately has to know if Koki is able to give him what he needs. He takes a deep breath, fighting to look at Koki and not the table, and blurts it out. “I think I like being hurt, you know, during sex, I want to be made to bleed and I don’t know who to ask and I kind of think it’s driving me to distraction and I was just wondering if maybe you could help me, I mean, I know it’s weird and all but I trust you and it’s something I really want to try, I haven’t found anyone who’ll really do anything like that...” The torrent of words trickles to a halt as Maru finally succumbs to staring at the table, a crimson flush rising in his cheeks.
Maru misses the way Koki’s jaw goes slack at first, then he collects himself before reaching a hand across the table to reassure him as he speaks, choosing his words carefully. “Yucchi, I understand what you’re saying. I can try, if you want. Do you have anything specific you’d like to try?” Maru looks up, shakes his head mutely, glances back down. “Well, then, Yucchi, tell me when and I’ll get something set up, okay?”
Maru nods again, and almost jumps when the door opens and Taguchi re-enters. Hopefully he wasn’t listening at the door, though Maru suspects he did, if the smug look on his face is anything to go by.
*
A few weeks later, Maru has screwed up his courage, and is finally going to get what he needs, he hopes. He waits awkwardly for Koki to answer the door, clenching his hands into fists to try and focus on not just turning around and fleeing.
Koki comes to the door at last, looking a little nervous as he invites Maru in. Koki gestures for Maru to follow him to the living room, face serious as he looks at Maru. “Yucchi, I need to know if I go too far or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop, but only if it’s your safe word-- I won’t stop if you just tell me ‘no’ or ‘don’t’ or ‘stop.’ You understand, right, Yucchi?”
Maru nods, “If I say ‘aardvark’ I want you to stop, okay?” He feels as ready as he’ll ever be.
Koki nods, taking his hand as he leads him to his bedroom. Maru is surprised to see restraints at the corners of the bed and some kind of ominous looking tray on the bedside table. As Maru gets closer, he sees that there are wrapped hypodermic needle tips, and antiseptic wipes, and for some reason, a spool of black thread. He’s beginning to get even more anxious, but Koki’s arms wrap gently around him from behind, lightly squeezing him before gently pulling his shirt over his head and returning to unfasten his pants, pushing underwear and all to the floor and then urging him to lay down on his back. Koki climbs up and straddles Maru’s waist, caressing his wrists as he gently guides them to the waiting cuffs, kissing each one before he buckles them closed. “Yucchi, I need you to stay as still as you can for me. You’ll be just fine.”
Maru nods, not trusting his voice to work correctly. Koki speaks again. “I’m going to use those needles to pierce through your skin, but they won’t be in for very long. First I’m going to clean your skin, and then I’m going to put gloves on and open up a needle, and press it through just a little bit of your skin. The thread is something I’d like to try, but only if you’re okay with it. How are you doing so far, Yucchi?”
Maru’s breath is barely a whisper. “I’m fine Koki. Please go on.” He manages to look directly at Koki as he says this, nervousness slowly receding. Koki pulls back, adjusting his seat on Maru as he carefully pulls the tray closer, pulling on a pair of latex gloves and tearing open one of the wipes. The alcohol in it chills his skin as it dries, but he manages to keep from squirming as Koki swipes it down the middle of his chest thoroughly, then disposes of it in a plastic bottle on the bedside table.
Koki picks up one of the wrapped needles next, peeling apart the wrapper to pull out the needle and holding it up for Maru to see. “This one is 24 gauge, the purple plastic end is how you know what size it is. Even though the number sounds big, this is really kind of the middle size. It’s not too big but it’s not so thin that you won’t feel anything. I’m going to pinch a bit of your skin up, and I want you to take a breath and release it on the count of three when I slide the needle in. Alright?”
Maru nods, then sucks in a breath as Koki pinches a patch of skin to the right of his chest. Koki counts to three and slides the needle in as Maru releases his breath in surprise; he’d felt only a tiny prick but was acutely aware of how intimate it felt, completely different from anything he’d ever felt before. Koki murmured his encouragement as he opened another wrapper, and repeating the process to the left of his chest. Koki continues gently, occassionally checking in with Maru as his gaze becomes steadily relaxed, eyelids drooping a bit.
Satisfied with the ten needles he’s arranged, Koki reaches for the thread, ripping off a suitable length and gingerly centering it below the bottom needles’ plastic ends, slowly crisscrossing them all the way to the top and tying the ends in a bow. He pulls away reluctantly and surreptitiously reaches for his phone, hoping that he can find it and if Maru will allow him to take a picture. He’d really love to be able to enjoy it later.
Gently Koki pulls out each needle tip, disposing of them in the plastic bottle. Maru comes back to feeling the coldness of another antibacterial wipe. Then he feels the slightly slick touch of an ointment trailing down the places that had been penetrated, Koki’s voice in his ear. “You did so well, Yucchi, I’m very proud of you.” With those words, Koki trailed fingers up Maru’s arms to unbuckle the cuffs, pulling his arms down and rubbing them before getting off of the bed and disrobing before climbing back into bed, pulling Maru into the circle of his arms. In the morning, he’s a little confused by waking up tangled not only in Koki’s arms, but also Taguchi’s wrapped around them both.
*
Maru’s need seems to be sated; however, it’s not long before he’s feeling restless with the need to be hurt again. What Koki had done for him had been amazing, but Maru still felt like having a good, hard fuck with someone.
He was completely surprised when Kame approached him one day after work and told him in no uncertain terms that they were going out to meet a friend, whether Maru wanted to or not. Something tiny inside himself, probably the same thing that made him want to be hurt, urged him to go along with whatever Kame wanted.
Needless to say, he was completely surprised when they got out of the car in front of a posh apartment building. He kept his mouth shut partly out of curiosity, and partly because the way Kame strode ahead of him seemed to radiate his need for Maru to shut up and follow him.
Kame comes to a halt in front of one of the many doors in the hallway they’ve emerged on, a glance shooting over his shoulder implying that he should hang back and stay quiet. When the door opens to reveal Kuroki Meisa clad in an almost indecently short black dress, Maru has to fight to follow Kame, and to keep his eyes anywhere that’s safe, most definitely not the tops of Meisa’s creamy thighs or how her cleavage is pushed up and almost spilling out of the slip of a dress. “Sit,” she orders imperiously, the tone compelling Maru to comply as quickly as he can, still doing his best to keep from ogling her outright. Kame leisurely takes a seat on the sofa, just as casually pressing on Maru’s shoulder to urge him to slide to his knees in the floor.
Maru realizes he’s been set up, that traitor Taguchi must’ve said something about it to Kame, or maybe even Koki. He doesn’t think Ueda would punk him like this, but there’s a tiny seed of gratitude once he gets past the shock of realizing his whole band knows his secret now, and are helping him in their own way. Kame finally speaks up. “Meisa, I know I’ve told you about Nakamaru-kun’s problem. I really think it would help him, and the rest of us, out, if you were to... help him. I don’t mean to imply that I think you’re a whore; but I would love to know if you’d allow me the pleasure of taking you shopping or something next time we meet up in exchange for your spending some time with Nakamaru-kun. His safe word is ‘green peas.’” Maru couldn’t help but cringe as Kame said all this, then stood up from the couch and left him there, all alone.
Meisa lets him stew in silence for a few minutes before taking a seat in a plush chair and finally addressing him. “Nakamaru-kun, I hear that you really feel the need to be... dominated. I don’t know why you were sniffing around your bandmates, since obviously they didn’t turn out to be so helpful. You could have saved yourself a lot of time had you just sucked it up and realized what you need. Luckily, you have me now. Now come over here, hands and knees only.”
Maru sucks in a breath, following her instructions and going a step further by not looking up. He’s not sure he can survive Meisa’s lethal dress. His plan of not directly looking at her doesn’t actually work that well, since as soon as he’s within her reach, she slides one daintily manicured hand into his hair and pulls, forcing him to look up at her.
“I think you know what’s coming next,” Meisa smirks down at him. His eyes go wide as he connects the dots and she spreads her thighs wide open; Maru thinks he squeaks when he realizes she’s not even wearing any panties. He doesn’t have time to think about it much longer as she uses her grip to close the distance between him and her labia, nor be shocked when she looks down at him, uttering the filthiest thing he’s ever heard a woman say. “Well, go on. It’s not going to lick itself.”
Maru swallows thickly, leaning forward tentatively, tongue flicking out and sweeping along the outer lips. The grip on his hair tightens in warning and he hastily brings his hands up to assist, fingers spreading Meisa open as he returns for a deeper swipe of his tongue, pressing it against her clit as he slides two fingers inside, taking her tiny gasp as approval to go faster. He slides his tongue down to where his fingers are and pulls them out in favor of tongue-fucking her as best he can in his current position. Meisa allows him to continue, seeming not to have lost her composure at all as she wrenches Maru away from her dripping wet pussy, standing up and presumably walking to her bedroom, snapping her fingers for Maru to follow.
He decides it’s probably best for him to stay on his hands and knees as he follows her, a warm blossom of happiness in his chest when she looks down at him, hands on his knees as he waits for her next order. It’s not long before she utters one of the best things Maru has heard in the last half-hour: “Strip.”
He eagerly yanks his shirt off and undoes his pants, glancing up as she beckons for him to stand up. He lets his pants fall to the floor as he stands. “On the bed, on your back,” is all that Meisa says, turning away from him to pull something from her dresser drawer. “Clasp your hands together, get ready to count,” are her next words, Maru’s eyes widening in shock as she returns with a riding crop, ominously swishing it.
It strikes down without warning across Maru’s chest, his eyes watering but remembering to count the first blow, all the way to ten, when finally she takes mercy on him, nearly reduced to tears not only from the angry red welts raised on his chest but his iron hard erection, which Meisa takes a moment to playfully and thankfully lightly trail the crop across before tossing it aside and pulling a condom from her bedside table and efficiently rolling it onto Maru. She strokes him firmly for just a second before climbing astride and slowly sinking onto his cock, just sitting there until Maru is really about to cry from sheer frustration. “Beg for it,” is all that Meisa says, smirking at his inability to get any leverage.
“Please, Meisa, I want to come! I need to so badly, I need to feel you, please ride me, take what you want from me!” Maru’s face is flushed with exertion, his shame long since gone.
Meisa remains still for just a few moments longer before shallowly rocking her hips, allowing Maru a short time to adjust, and then she’s off taking him for a ride like he’d just begged for, better than he imagined. Her pace is brutal, but Maru still comes when she grinds down too soon for his taste, her fingers rubbing her clit frantically as she screams out her orgasm as well.
Meisa rolls off of Maru quickly, a more genuine smile on her face now than when they had started. “Such a good boy, Nakamaru-kun,” she says quietly. “Now, get up and take a damn shower.”
Really, Maru can’t think of any ways that will substantially pay off his debt to Kame. Maybe he could do some sort of favor for Kame; Maru was sure he’d be open to the idea he had in mind.