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azureashes · 2 years

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A Goddess for the King of Curses

ISTG MINORS DNI FFS PLS

TW: Noncon, double penetration, size kink, corruption kink, group noncon, gaslighting, mindbreaking, torture, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

And without further ado, enjoy... if you’re the same kind of crazy as me.

Part two: here.

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There are syrupy rose petals spreading their sweetness on your tongue as your feet soak in wild honey. White silk is draped loosely over your frame. Baby’s breath is braided into your hair along with golden threads. Looking out from your raised velvet dais, you see rows and rows of villagers, paying obeisance to you.

One by one, the villagers step forward and dip small pieces of bread into the clay pot of honey at your feet. They believe the honey has gained healing properties and your mouth is too full of syrup and roses to tell them otherwise. And who knows, maybe it did have healing properties. Otherwise, what were they bowing and thanking you for? You watch them scoop up the amber liquid and listen to their supplications as they go.

“Please, my Lady,” a tearful old woman begged, her voice raspy with – what? Age, sickness, thirst? You had read of these terms in books but did not quite know what they meant, what they felt like. “My daughter, please let her be healthy again.”

You nod, because speech is reserved only for the most momentous occasions, and hope it’s enough for her. The monthly assembly was nearing its end and only a few stragglers remained. The day was nearly done with, and you were inclined to return to your chambers as soon as possible.

Your gaze had already slipped towards the next supplicant approaching when it happened. The woman reached out and touched the pale skin of your feet. An entreaty that transgressed sacred bounds. “Please, my lady!” the woman wept.

Before you could so much as respond, guards had already dragged the woman away from you. You didn’t know what she was thinking. She had to know that touching you was strictly forbidden, that it would mar your purity, ultimately affecting your ability to protect all of them with your sanctity as Priestess of the Goddess Terra.

The uniformed men showed no mercy, they raised their weapons and beat down on the old woman mercilessly. Your heart twinged with pain. You could understand their concern that the woman’s actions might have endangered the sacred temple and all who resided in its protection. But what was done was done and you abhorred violence.

“Enough!” the word was out of your mouth before you knew it and you were on your feet. Your fiery gaze narrowed at the men, and they hesitated nervously, realizing they had displeased you. Most of the residents of the temple had never even heard you speak and so, when your clear, commanding voice rang out throughout the temple hall everything ground to a halt. Time seemed to stand still.

“Tut, tut,” a sickly sweet voice rang out from behind you. The thick, velvet curtains parted, and the High Chamberlain stepped into view. He wore a tall, cylindrical hat that was inlaid with diamonds, and fashioned out of rich, mulberry velvet brocade. His spindly fingers were adorned with so many golden rings it was a wonder he could lift them at all. In fact, the platinum-haired man with the aquiline nose was so heavily weighed down by gold from head to toe it was a wonder he didn’t melt into a yellow puddle when passing by the kitchens. Only the ornate medallion on his chest, the mark of one anointed by the temple, was of burnished silver.

“You have displeased the Goddess.” His voice was deceptively soft, as was the usual manner for men who knew that they bore the kind of power that did not require them to raise their voices.

The men stood back at once, abashed. They brought their hands stiffly to their sides and bowed their heads in silent apology. The High Chamberlain stepped down the marble stairs with slow, measured steps. He approached them with disdain and gently helped the old woman to her feet.

“The goddess does not condone violence!” the chamberlain called out to the people at large, before turning to the two soldiers. “Do you intend to disgrace the temple by angering the goddess?” His voice was sharp and weighted with cold fury.

“Go. Take your families and leave this place. You are dismissed from your posts.” He turned away from them with a scowl, “Lest you bring damnation upon us all.”

He turned to the assembly with outstretched hands next. “Worshippers, please leave the temple now! The goddess must take her rest after the trying ordeal she has witnessed.” The men and women shouted praises to the goddess who had chosen to defend the common people over her own temple guards as four handsome young eunuchs approached with a palanquin. You were helped to your feet by your handmaidens, young girls who were sworn into your service from an early age and swore never to marry. As they carried you off, you could not help but glance at the two ashen-faced soldiers who looked like they had been sentenced to death. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You weren’t sure whether justice had been served. But the High Chamberlain had spoken, and what did you know about the affairs of the people?

“I’m not a goddess.”

The words were out almost as soon as you had reentered your chambers. You meant to sound indignant, but it came out petulant – childish, almost.

The High Chamberlain turned to you with a gentle smile. “I’m a priestess, Sig,” you insisted, “I worship the Goddess."

“Ah, and so you do.” He folded his hands over his staff, gold rings clinking as he did so. “I chose you myself so many years ago, because I saw the light of the goddess within you and knew you to be the next priestess.”

You frowned. You couldn’t help but feel that he was skirting the topic somehow, but you weren’t sure where he was leading. You settled deeper into your cushions and pulled the many silks around you closer. Your chambers were your favorite place in the temple, here you could be at ease, away from watchful eyes. Golden flowerpots littered the floors and tables, each with all sorts of fresh flowers picked from the gardens this morning. You liked to lie back on your silks, close your eyes, and pretend you were among them, on the grass, in the sunshine. Their bouquet’s sweet fragrance washed over you and you could almost believe it to be true.

“But through your worship, dear one, you have entered unto the goddess,” he smiled softly, and lowered his voice as if they were sharing a secret. “And the goddess has entered unto you.”

You pressed a palm to your chest where your heart thumped against your ribcage. Was it true?

“I strongly believe that you are the Chosen Priestess, who will save us all when the Great Evil arises.”

You frowned, unconvinced, “I’m sure you said that to my predecessor as well. And you’ll say it to my successor, too.”

Siegfried burst into amused laughter that ended in a cough. “You never cease to surprise me,” he shook his head. The two of you fell silent for a moment before he continued, “Do you know that your parents did not want to give you into the service of the temple?”

Wide-eyed, you turned to him now, perplexed, “why?”

The old priest shrugged, “Who knows? In their limited knowledge, they didn’t realize what a great honor the Calling that you had received was.”

He rose to his feet and made to leave, “Sometimes we cannot foresee the great glory that fate has yet to bestow upon us.” He winked at you, as if there was some riddle in his words for you to solve. You mulled over his meaning as he headed towards the door. You bit your lip when something puzzled you.

“Master Sig,” you called after him, causing him to stop in the doorway and turn towards you. “How did you change their minds? My parents, I mean?”

“Come now,” the High Chamberlain dismissed with a smile, “that is quite enough of the past.” He nodded at you and was gone.

The Great Evil was coming.

You knew it. You could feel it in your bones.

You spent day and night at the sacred tree begging the goddess for protection. You supplicated unto the pearled staff that only the priestess of the age was ever allowed access to. You told the chamberlain about your worries whenever you had a chance, but he was far more concerned with running the temple than with taking your premonitions seriously. When nearby cities and kingdoms fell, when the sorcerers who were meant to stop the evil were crushed under its feet, when the monsters were only days away, all hell broke loose.

The temples treasures were packed up, the servants and monks rushed to and fro, the chamberlain himself was seen running from place to place, barking orders, his hat askew. Among all the chaos, you merely stood there, lost and confused.

It was as if they had forgotten all about you.

“Sig!” you called out to the chamberlain’s retreating back. He almost stumbled at the sound of your voice and whirled around with a glare in his eyes. It was almost as if he were angry with you, but that wasn’t possible… was it?

“Wh- what am I to do?” your voice came out smaller than intended. You had been preparing for this moment your whole life – you, and generations of priestesses before you. Now that it had come, were they all going to run away?

Siegfried sighed and the anger evaporated from his face, he cooed your name and walked towards you, righting his hat as he did so. “Listen to me carefully now,” he said sternly, and you could almost hear the old, collected Chamberlain in his voice. “You are the chosen priestess. You will face this evil, and you will defeat it by your virtue. The goddess is within you – no, you ARE the goddess. You must take the Sacred Staff and protect this country.” His gaze bore into you, compelling you to understand. He was the closest thing you had to a parent, he had raised you all your life. He was the only one you were given leave to speak to. And he was entrusting you with all of their fates.

You blinked, your eyes welling up with tears at the enormity of your task, but you nodded solemnly. This was your due. For all the years of worship that the countrymen had paid to you and your ancestors. It was time to fight the evil with the collected power of those prayers.

“I – “ he was already stumbling away again, now that he had placated you, “I will take the people away – somewhere safe!” He opened and closed his mouth a few times as sweat rolled down his temples. “I’d much rather be by your side to see your glorious victory, but - but the people need to be evacuated.” He nodded firmly to himself. “I will bring them back when you have vanquished the Great Evil.”

You watched his retreating back as he turned slowly away from you and then bolted for the temple’s exit. You took a soft, deep breath and looked around.

The temple was abandoned. It seemed all the others had fled while you were talking to Sig.

No matter, you shook your head. It was time.

You dressed in the white silks that had been prepared for the month’s assembly, they were of better use for the upcoming battle. Seven gold belts you clasped around your waist, each with a divine significance. Power, Wisdom, Eloquence, Generosity, Chastity, Divinity, and Judgment.

You knelt at the sacred tree a final time and bade the goddess Terra watch over you, before rising to your feet and turning to a side room. Here, was the Wreath of the Goddess and the Staff of Sanctity. The two tools you would use to vanquish the approaching evil. The Staff was a pearly white, and the Wreath was made of delicate golden flowers and leaves that were as soft to the touch as real flowers. You placed the wreath atop your head and lifted the staff gingerly in your hands.

The uppermost floor of the tower was your destination. Here, you would face the oncoming horde of evil. Here, you would take your stand and protect the people of this land who had worshipped you all your life.

You saw them approaching from afar. A mass of growling, burly demonic incarnations approaching like a thick plague. The very stench of their evil made your skin crawl, but you set your teeth and stood firm. The closer they drew, the weaker you felt, their demonic aura infringing upon your divine power. You closed your eyes and whispered a prayer for strength, replenishing the shield of divinity.

When the horde of demons drew within earshot, you breathed deep and called out, “Halt, accursed spirits! I am the Priestess of the Goddess Terra, and I forbid you entry within our borders! Heed my words, lest I sentence you to your deaths!”

The monsters turned towards one another, muttering to themselves before bursting into raucous laughter. Their jeers made your stomach turn. As if you had not spoken at all, they lurched back into action and continued approaching the temple walls. With a quiet incantation, you lifted the sacred staff and struck the ground with it. Immediately, a luminous, incandescent wall sprung to life between the temple and the evil beasts. They snarled at you and the first of them lifted a mace before bolting towards the barrier – only to disintegrate into nothingness as soon as he touched it.

You smirked to yourself, you were the chosen priestess, and you would protect your countrymen. A furious roar lifted from the monsters as they shuffled back and forth, wondering what to do. You watched them, hoping they would retreat peacefully, putting an end to the chaos when a pair of crimson eyes caught yours. Your breath caught in your throat, because there, among the disgruntled goblins was a man standing well over them, he had black markings on his face and four muscular arms, two of which were folded across his broad chest, but most shocking of all was the fact that he was looking straight at you with a wide, unhinged smirk, fangs gleaming in the sunlight.

Before you could blink, he had launched himself up through the air towards you, and as he approached the divine barrier, the last shield between you and the evil beyond - it shattered into a million pieces like the thinnest of glass. He squatted on the balcony’s railing, his nose millimeters from yours, his scarlet eyes flecked with gold and glowing with bloodlust.

“Boo,” he taunted, his smirk unfaltering. You could hear the cheers of victory behind and far below him as the demons breached the temple walls, but you could not tear your eyes from the murderous smile of the man before you. Instantly, you knew without a shadow of a doubt, that this man was the Great Evil you had been taught about all your life.

“I am the Priestess of Terra,” you murmured quietly, your breath ghosting over his lips. You furrowed your brows, trying your best to look imposing, trying your best to stand your ground, “and I will vanquish you.”

His nose twitched and his eyes gleamed, there was something of genuine delight in his response and you fought the shiver that went down your spine.

“Oh, yeah?” he sneered, stepping forward off the balcony railing. His sheer size forced you to take a step back. “Says who?”

“The goddess Terra has ordained me to –“ you begin, glancing backwards so you don’t fall to the floor.

“Goddess, shmoddess,” Sukuna dismissed with a cruel laugh. Like a strike of lightning his hand shot out, and closed around your face, his fingers reached to the tips of your ears and his palms smelled of blood and sweat.

He was touching you - touching you. And his touch was warm and foreign and – and bruising. Your head spun with fear. When the demon applied pressure, you could hear the bones of your jaw creaking in protest as he lifted you off of the ground. He swung you left and right like a ragdoll, “I’m asking you, who left you here to stand against me on your own?”

“Th- The people of Terrania, I –“ your voice was muffled against his palm and you could scarcely breathe. “I will protect them!” you choked out, before striking out with your staff, hoping the mere touch of such a divine instrument would be enough to take him down.

You held the point of the staff against his chest, and Sukuna glanced down at it, taken aback briefly. He blinked, then broke into a chuckle, as the pearly white spear took on a gray, and then an inky black hue spilling down from the point of contact with Sukuna’s chest towards the handle in your hand. You gasped in horror, watching the ominous display through the gaps in Sukuna’s fingers.

“That’s all well and good, brat…” he chuckled sinisterly, “but who is going to protect you?”

And in that moment, you lost all hope that anyone would.

“Sukuna-sama,” a voice called from beyond your vision. “The place is abandoned, there’s no one else here. The townspeople, too,” the gruff voice continued. “All gone.”

“Well, well, well…” Sukuna sneered. “Looks like it’s just you and me then, priestess.”

He released his hold on you and you crumpled to the ground like a used towel, coughing for breath. You glanced up at the mountain of a man and began to realize, for the very first time, that you were entirely out of your depth. You stumbled to your feet gingerly, unwilling to give up despite the overwhelming odds. “I am the incarnation of the Goddess Terra,” you rasped, “and I will bring you to your knees.”

“Ho?” Sukuna sneered, almost delighted by your stupidity. “My knees, huh?”

He stepped closer and grabbed you by your hair, sending the Wreath of the Goddess tumbling to the ground, you yelped in pain, but squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to let him see your fear.

“Oi,” Sukuna snapped gruffly, “eyes up here.”

You glared at him through the tears in your eyes. He tugged on your hair some more. “Does this hurt?” He grinned in mock-concern, “I’m only getting started. I thought you were gonna bring me down, you’ll have to do better than that.”

Your scalp burned with pain. You thought of roses in syrup, of clay pots of honey, of cool silks and soft velvets. Anything but the present moment.

“Don’t you hate them?” Sukuna jerked you closer towards himself, “The assholes who left a nobody like you alone with me?”

You bit back tears. “I will protect my worshippers,” you whispered thickly, muted by sobs stuck in your throat.

“You think they didn’t know what was going to happen to you?” Sukuna barked a laugh, “You really don’t see what’s happening here?”

With his free hand he grabbed your face again, squeezing your cheeks in until they hurt. “Don’t tell me you actually believe all that crap about being a goddess?!” A disbelieving laugh echoed against the abandoned temple walls.

“I was going to kill you,” Sukuna mused piercing your cheek with a sharp, black fingernail. You whimpered despite yourself as blood trickled towards your chin. “Impale you and use you as a flag, you know?” He snorted in amusement, as if the idea was a clever joke.

“But I think I have a better idea…”

You yelped in alarm as you felt yet another hand at your waist, you tried to jerk away from him, trembling at his touch – as foreign to you as the pain you were feeling for the first time in your life. You tried to swat his hands away, but he was quick to catch your hands in one of his own, and then twisting them until they hurt.

“Now don’t be such a prude,” Sukuna taunted as his other hands sliced through the seven golden belts one at a time. “Let’s see what’s under here, shall we?”

“Stop, please…” you whimpered, eyes brimming with tears.

“You’re not a goddess,” Sukuna tutted, throwing two belts to the ground.

Power. Wisdom.

“Not a priestess,”

Judgment. Eloquence. Generosity.

“Not the savior of these stinking humans,”

Divinity.

The last of the golden belts clattered to the floor and his hands reached between the folds of silk and cupped the mound between your legs. A shuddering sob escaped your throat.

“You’re just a woman.”

Chastity.

He rubbed at your clothed sex, observing the conflicting emotions of horror, pleasure and fear splayed openly across your face. “Looks like the goddess likes it,” Sukuna sneered.

The tears you held at bay came bubbling over. The sounds of the temple - your childhood home, your only home - being ransacked by the many cursed spirits that had stormed in echoed through the halls and instead of protecting your shrine, here you were being touched, touched, by the great evil himself in ways you didn’t understand.

“They steal little girls like you from their parents,” Sukuna continued gruffly, adjusting his grip so that two hands held you up by your thighs, pressing your legs apart and pinning you against a large, marble pillar, while the other two ventured up your abdomen and over your breasts each inch that his hands wandered over you caused cold dread to creep up your spine, when suddenly – without warning – his sharp nails came down, tearing your silk robes to shreds.

You gasped in horror and sheer humiliation. You had never been exposed to anyone, not even your handmaidens, and here you were spread open like a gutted pig. And beyond that, the eyes of the great evil were feasting on you as if you were no more than a morsel for him to devour.

You winced when he reached out towards you. You had spent your life untouched, and when Sukuna’s hands closed in on you, his touch was never less than punishing. He squeezed, he pinched, he scraped your flesh, as if he could only feel you when you were in pain. He grabbed your breasts and squeezed mercilessly, his sharp black nails digging into your skin. For reasons, you could not comprehend, you moaned through your hiccupping sobs.

This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening.

“They look for the most gullible ones, unsuspecting idiots like you,” he twisted your nipple cruelly as he went on. “And use you to fill their own koffers, to bring in the fools who are willing to part with their gold. And you know what the best part is?” He lowered his head towards your ear to reveal it, but broke off laughing. The idea was so ridiculous to him, it didn’t look like he could help but laugh. He leaned against you, crushing you into the pillar as he continued laughing hysterically. You watched him helplessly, suspended against the pillar spread-eagle with your most intimate area pressed up against him, your eyebrows knitted in confusion, your cheeks damp with tears.

When the roar of laughter abated, Sukuna wiped at his eyes and brought his lips to your ears, “When those bastards left you here, do you really think they thought you would fight me?” He waited a beat for you to think it over. You hesitated, hadn’t Sig expected her to fight? “They must have thought you’d have the good sense to run away.” Sukuna burst out laughing again and pressed one hand to his stomach as if it hurt from laughter.

“You see? You see what an absolute fool you are?”

You could not respond and simply stared at him blankly. “Th-that’s not true…”

But you weren’t sure. You thought about how Sig had fled without another glance backwards. How the monks and handmaidens had run from the temple without once asking after you. How they had left you behind as if you were no more human than the temple’s paintings or statues.

“Everyone knew it was a lie,” Sukuna hissed sadistically into your ear, as he tore the simple, remaining scrap of fabric from between your legs.

“Everyone but you.”

And then his fingers were inside of you.

You cried out in shock. “No, no, no…” You fought against him with what little strength you had. You didn’t know what this was, but it was wrong, it was so, so wrong. “Stop!” You pounded against his chest hoping to catch him off guard so he would release you, but those long, thick fingers only kept exploring the hole between your legs.

“Stop it! Please! I’ll do whatever you want!”

“Oh yes, you will,” Sukuna smirked. Catching both of your wrists in one of his hands he pinned them above your head, leaving you utterly defenseless. You looked on in horror as he reached for the sacred staff and held it in his bare hand. The Sacred Staff. The divine gift that no one but the priestesses had touched for over a hundred years. In the hands of the Great Evil. And whose fault was that? No one’s but yours. The onyx marble glistened in the sunlight and a salacious sneer spread across the monster’s lips.

“Be honest with yourself, goddess,” he teased, bringing the staff between your legs. He pressed the cold marble against your womanhood and slid it slowly up and down, enjoying your look of despair at his manhandling your divine weapon. The cool marble slipped between your folds and touched something between your legs that caused you to jerk in response.

“Stop it,” you whimpered, letting your head hang in shame, even as your legs trembled against his hold with the strange, unfamiliar sensation. You could feel something coiling within your stomach, something you had first attributed to fear, but now you weren’t so sure anymore.

“What? You don’t like it?” Sukuna hummed with sadistic pleasure, “Don’t lie, brat.”

“I don’t!” you denied vehemently, even as your cheeks burned. But what could you do? With your legs pressed open and your hands pinned over your head, struggle as you might, there was no overpowering the great demon before you. Your eyes burned with guilt at what you had allowed to become of the sacred staff. If only a more powerful priestess had been in your place.

The thought was cut short by another entirely. Sukuna had said the temple kidnapped young, naïve girls. And what was it that Siegfried had said? That your parents had been unwilling to give you up? Maybe there were no priestesses more powerful. Maybe there was only a string of ignorant young women preyed upon by powerful men who made their fortunes off of them.

No, the idea was blasphemous!

Your thoughts were cut short as something cool and round demanded entrance and you shivered despite yourself. “Wh- what are you doing?”

“Think it’ll fit?” Sukuna mused, pressing the bulbous head of the staff against your opening. He prodded the hole carelessly once, twice, and each time a jolt passed through your body. “Stop!” you demanded, anxious sweat beading on your forehead, you opened your mouth to say more but nothing came out as a searing pain tore through you like fire.

A scream erupted from your throat as your untouched inner walls were forced to give way to the cold stone. Distantly, as if a world away, you could hear Sukuna laughing, enjoying your pain. Before your scream had even abated, he began shoving the staff deeper. Your cries broke off into sobs of pain, but the more you suffered, the more he seemed to be enjoying himself.

He pulled the staff out, only to ram it back into you, and smirked each time you jolted at the intrusion. You sobbed messily, tears and snot streaming down your face. Sukuna showed no signs of stopping, or even slowing, his punishing pace continued mercilessly until blood streamed between your legs.

“Pl- please…” you sniffled.

“Please what?” Sukuna asked, but rammed the ancient relic back into you as you opened your mouth to reply. “Come now, goddess, full sentences, please.”

Something awful was building and you didn’t know what it was - you hoped it was a swift death - but your breath shortened, and your body felt wound like a spring, and just as a dozen cursed spirits streamed into the room to give their report to Sukuna, you cried out in confusion as your body spasmed, your nerve ends tingling like grains of sand.

Sukuna pulled your staff from between your legs, and it hurt as if your insides themselves were clenching onto the stone instrument. You fell forward like a dead weight, hanging limply from where Sukuna held your wrists.

“Step forward men,” Sukuna all but purred, gesturing towards you magnanimously, “meet your goddess.”

Your face burned with shame and tears dripped down from your lashes onto the temple floor where they mingled with your blood. You trembled still with the force of whatever it was that had happened to you and closed your eyes from the humiliating experience.

“Oi,” Sukuna gripped your chin and raised your face towards him. “Don’t be a bore, goddess. Look at them.” He turned your face towards the creatures that had entered. A few bore a resemblance to men, others were half-beast, and others still were what could only be described as monsters with tentacles, fangs, and all manner of bodily deformities.

“See that look in their eyes?” Sukuna murmured into your ear, his fangs brushing your earlobe. “They want a turn, too. What do you say, should I hand you over?”

You turned your head towards him in horror, your eyes imploring him not to, as a cheer broke out among the cursed spirits.

You shook your head desperately as Sukuna finally released you, giving you a shove towards the gathering. They caught hold of you before you had even caught your footing, dragging you into the center of their circle. Their eyes were almost worse than their hands, the hunger with which those fearsome eyes raked over you was nauseating. You cried and screamed and begged them to stop, but your voice was drowned out by theirs. Nothing could stop them fighting over every inch of your flesh. You were groped and prodded at, licked in more places than you could count at once. It was as if you were drowning in hands and tongues.

But as bad as it was when they fought over you, it was worse still when they cooperated with one another. Bruising hands pinned you down while the others explored your body freely, taking turns mouthing your breasts and fondling you. There were so many voices, so much warm breath on your skin, so many faces, you shut your eyes and sobbed miserably.

You prayed that Sig would pull you away. That your guards would beat them down. That the goddess Terra would come to save you, but you knew it was all in vain. Deep down, you were beginning to realize. You were nothing more than a girl who had been stolen from her parents. After all, a true goddess could never find herself in such a situation, could she? Being raped to death in her own temple?

It was when an overeager cursed spirit positioned his member between your legs that you realized with startling clarity, that there was one person who could save you.

“Sukuna-sama!” you screamed, pulling your face away from another spirit seeking entrance at your mouth. They hesitated, confirming your suspicions. There was one person who could call them off, who might call them off still. “Sukuna…” you called again, but your voice was weaker this time. You squeezed your eyes shut and gave yourself up to the only true power you had yet to witness.

“Please, I’ll do anything! Please!”

When you opened your eyes again, Sukuna was standing beside you staring down at where you were held spread-eagle on the floor.

The mirth was gone from his face. He was regarding you seriously. A cocked brow, a challenge. “Anything?”

You nodded, tears still flowing from your eyes. He jerked his chin at the spirits, signaling for them to leave off and they scrambled backwards, not daring to challenge him. You rose to sit before him, your legs tucked beneath you as you used to sit in the temple library. Your shoulders shook still, and you wiped your face with the back of your arm, trying to regain a sense of decorum even as you could not stop yourself from trembling. You glanced down at your blood-stained legs and your tear-streaked arms, waiting for Sukuna’s verdict.

“You could be my mascot, like I said. I could string you up nicely,” Sukuna mused, leaning back against a pillar as he rested one booted foot on your shoulder. “What else could you possibly be good for? Apart from your leather, maybe.”

What were you good for? Nothing, clearly. You didn’t even know a single thing about yourself. But… you knew everything about the goddess.

“Do you want me to die a martyr?” you asked, meeting his eyes clearly, the faintest spark of hope coming to life within you. “Or do you want them to see that I’ve recognized the power of a true god?” It might work, appeal to his ego, he was the type, wasn’t he?

Sukuna’s lips split into a broad smile. “Clever little thing, aren’t you?” He pushed at your shoulder with his booted foot, sending you sprawling onto your back on the tiled floor. He then took hold of your wrist and lifted you up from the floor until you were eye level. You swallowed thickly and did your best to meet his gaze, there was a dangerous spark in those glowing red irises. “But I don’t like the look in your eyes,” he decided. “Should I take them out?”

Your breath caught in your throat. Did he mean that?

“Break in the goddess, huh?” He smirked, “Well, let’s get started, then.” As he pulls you towards the balcony you begin to understand what he has in store for you.

“I’ll be obedient!” You cry, realizing you’re in for more pain as you struggle to keep up with his steps. “I’ll do everything you say! Please, no more!”

“And how on earth are you going to be obedient?” He sneered, “When you’re arguing with me already?”

He throws you towards a wooden table.

The monks used to eat dinner here, you remember. They would thank you for the meal and eat humbly with gentle smiles. Your back slams against the surface of the wooden table and the candlesticks clatter across the temple floor. You scamper backwards, as if seeking to escape over the table, but Sukuna takes hold of your shoulder and flips you onto your chest, the rough wood scraping at your skin. In one fluid movement, Sukuna catches your wrists in his hand and slams your staff against the nearest wall, sending the marble bulb sailing through the air for him to catch in a third hand. He stabs the jagged edge of your now-broken staff through the backs of your hands, held one over the other, and clear through the wooden table.

You don’t even realize you are screaming until the pain in your throat becomes unbearable. You sob against the unfinished wood and Sukuna shakes his head behind you. “Tsk, tsk, tsk… What was that about being obedient?”

“I’ll be good, I promise…” you mutter nonsensically, your words slurred with pain. “You can trust me.”

“I’ll trust you when I break you,” Sukuna answers automatically. His attention caught by the marble, stone ball in his hand, still covered with your blood and your juices.

“Say ahh~” he grins, holding the orb of your broken staff to your lips. You’re about to protest, when your gaze catches on the cursed spirits still watching, waiting only a few feet away for you to screw up and be thrown back into their midst.

If you were going to be violated, wouldn’t it be better for Sukuna to be the one? He was just one demon, he had to wear out eventually, right? You opened your mouth, and Sukuna shoved the ball inside, scraping past your teeth. It was too big. It hurt. You couldn’t swallow. You could already feel saliva pooling in your mouth.

“Good girl,” Sukuna purred, “how’s that?” You couldn’t answer but you tried anyway, hoping the garbled sound would somehow please him. It seemed to do the job, because he asked no further questions as he moved back behind you.

It was awful. Your hands were burning, you almost wished he would have just cut them off instead. Every ever so tiny movement only widened your wounds, worsening your pain. The discomfort of the rough, wooden table almost didn’t register in comparison, but the burning embarrassment of your exposed backside hurt almost more than your hands. You tried to blend it all out, to disappear into some safe space in your mind as Sukuna slowly marched towards the end of the table trailing a sharp, black fingernail along your spine as he did so.

Sukuna didn’t like to give you any sort of pleasure without also giving you pain, you were starting to realize, and you grit your teeth for what you knew would be a humiliating experience, even more so with the other spirits looking on.

What you didn’t expect was for the palm of his hand to strike your backside with such force that the table splintered beneath you. Your hoarse throat cried out in pain. You could feel the bits of wood digging into your thighs, but could do nothing at all as he repeated the motion, again, and again, and again. Each strike seemed to travel up through your whole body, each strike seemed like it would split your skin. It was an endless, raw pain. You had no idea how long it went on for, but it continued until you gave up screaming, and your face lay limp in a puddle of your own drool.

When your body went slack and you were teetering on the edge of consciousness, and he could no longer provoke a reaction out of you, he finally stilled his hand. He pulled your face up by your hair, and your eyes rolled weakly up towards him, a string of spittle stretching from your chin to the table.

“You’re not finished already, are you?” he taunted, bright-eyed and sadistic. He rubbed gently at your backside now, almost as if easing away the pain and you blinked in weak confusion. What… what was he doing?

“That’s just the thing, goddess,” he slipped his hand between your cheeks, sliding up and down, spreading a strange slick liquid between your legs. “Don’t pass out on me now, if I wanted to fuck a corpse, I would have just killed you in the first place.” You moaned weakly. You had no idea what was going on, but it felt good, and you were so desperate to feel good. When his fingers slipped inside of you this time, there was nothing awful about it, you sighed against the table and closed your eyes in relief. Sure, there were still chips of wood in your thighs and the blood on your hands had crusted around your staff, and your jaw ached so terribly you did not believe there was a way to remove the ball of marble from your mouth. You were starting to hate the staff, and the wreath, and the temple, and everything about this place.

You relaxed into his touch, hoping that the more pliant you were, the less inclined he would be to cause you more pain. You felt thick, hard flesh prodding at your entrance, sliding up and down, just as his hand had a minute ago, to part your folds and slip inside. But something was wrong, whatever it was he wanted to violate you with now, it was too big, it would never fit. You glanced over your shoulder, trying to make sense of what was happening to you and your eyes widened in alarm as you saw not one, but two, erect members protruding from between his legs, each of them bigger than a man’s fist. He was going to literally tear you apart. He had no intention of letting you live.

All lethargy forgotten, you whimpered in fear and struggled to pull away from him, but two firm hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you in place. “Now, now… don’t be that way,” he scolded with a cruel smirk. “Open wide.”

He forced himself inside of you with a thrust that should have split you clean in two. The sound that escaped from your mouth was something between a groan and a scream. You gasped, panting against the obstruction in your mouth as your inner walls burned with pain. You squeezed your eyes shut and whimpered against the table trying to spread your feet further apart, anything to ease the agonizing stretch.

But Sukuna cared little for your comfort. He continued ramming into you, aiming to push deeper and deeper inside of you, not having nearly had his fill. Each thrust makes you dizzy, each time he shoves further inside of you, you’re sure he’ll tear you apart.

It’s all together too much. Another orgasm crashes over you, despite the pain, causing your walls to squeeze down on him. You shiver uncontrollably against the table, wondering – hoping – if you could just black out until he’s done.

You feel the flat of his palm against your bare back and your eyes fall to half-mast as he shoves into you – again – again – again. You loll forward with each thrust, widening the wounds on your hands. When Sukuna finally gives pause with a groan, one hand on each side of you, leaning over you on the table, you turn your head weakly to look up at him.

It’s strange, to meet his eyes this way. It’s almost intimate. Being shadowed by him this way, covered by him. It’s strange how in the course of just a few hours, his touch had gone from horrid and strange to familiar. Strange. Perhaps it was simply her addled, exhausted mind.

You could not look away from him, and he did not seem to be inclined to do so either. He began rocking into you, eating up your expressions, each wince of pain, each moan of pleasure, each jolt of overstimulation. Did it make him feel powerful, you wondered, to be able to give you agony or ecstasy at his leisure, to switch them up at a whim, always leaving you guessing?

Just when you thought you had reached the point of no return, you felt him position his second member behind you. But what did he intend to do? You were stretched to your limit, there was no way he could fit another where he had forced the first – but the question answered itself almost as soon as it crossed your mind.

You turned wide eyes towards Sukuna, who smirked, feasting off your fear. You tried to say something, some protest about how wrong that was, but all that reached his ears around the ball in your mouth was helpless, desperate whines.

“Look at you,” Sukuna chided, lifting your chin from the table where you had made a mess, the wood softening from your pooled saliva. “Disgusting.” Your stomach did some odd flip at the word. It was an insult. So, why did it feel…

All thoughts were banished from your mind as his second member began squeezing into your narrow entrance. It hurt. It hurt so, so, so much. It hurt more than your jaw and more than your hands and more than losing your maidenhood to your own staff had. You sobbed against the table, your tears mixing with your saliva, and still Sukuna pushed on.

You didn’t know when the pain faded. Maybe it hadn’t faded at all, but it was now accompanied by another sensation. Something filthy, something animalistic, something intoxicating.

There was a type of urgency to his movements now, and you could hear the wooden table legs skidding over the stone floor with each thrust quickening in pace. Your breaths were starting to come fast and short again, and to your immense surprise, so did his. There was that coil tightening in your belly again, the tension throughout your body that you realized would be released shortly, and then it hit you – he was feeling the same thing.

The feeling of fullness drove you nearly out of your mind. Each thrust seemed to kill off a little of your sanity. Did it hurt? Was it torture? Or was it divine? Did you wish he would leave you alone or did you wish he would never stop? You didn’t rightly know.

Feeling both members slick in and out of you at the same time, perfectly in sync, filling you so perfectly you thought you could almost feel him in your throat. Your eyes crossed over as you gave yourself up to him. It was okay. It had to be. Everyone was gone. They had left you with him. It had to be okay to let him have you. To let him ravage you however he liked. It had to be okay if it felt this good.

He was also this close to reaching that strange, indescribable height that you knew you ought not to feel, being bared and violated in your own temple like this. But it was all a lie anyway, wasn’t it? And as opposed to always sitting still, and being silent, you felt more alive like this, on the precipice of agony and pleasure at the same time, waiting for someone as awful as Sukuna to push you over.

It tore out of you with a scream of pleasure, you all but convulsed against the table with the sheer impact of the climax that washed over you. Sukuna came shortly after, his pace stuttering, and then you could feel something warm and pleasant gushing into you. What could that be? Copious amounts of it, it felt like, pumping into you and flowing back out, dripping onto the floor between your legs. Sukuna lowered himself for a fraction of a moment, his chest almost grazing your back.

Panting, losing consciousness, your eyes met his. He made a sound that was something between a scoff and a chuckle, “That’s the thing sweetheart, you can’t pretend to be broken.”

“Mmm..” you answered, your eyes fluttering closed. Darkness was closing in. Were you dying? Or falling asleep? You had no idea. Sukuna had spoken so softly his minions couldn’t possibly have heard him. But as you drifted off, you held onto a single word… sweetheart.

Days and nights passed. Some with torture, some with starvation, some with agonizing ecstasy to drive you out of your mind. Some days he left you alone in a dark room until there was no way to know whether or not he had left you to your death. Others he whispered sweet, meaningless nothings into your ear just to see how it made you shiver. Some days he called you disgusting trash not worth his time. Others he called you goddess.

Both were starting to feel the same.

It was exhilarating just to have his attention. Just to have him look at you. Just to not be alone. It felt good to be struck by him. Almost as good as it felt to have him jerk your head back by your hair so he could fuck you harder. And when all was said and done, you were broken in every sense of the word, but that was okay, because you had never felt so whole.

When he marched on your townspeople it was with you on his shoulder, draped in skimpy, barely-there red silks and gold chains. You wore the Wreath of the Goddess around your neck like a collar, and your arms were wrapped around Sukuna’s neck. He didn’t even need to put you down to kill the few rebels that took up arms. And when the rest of them surrendered to his might, you felt giddy watching Sig and the others kneel before Master Sukuna. The burning villages, the ruined fields, didn’t it serve them right?

And just to prove a point, he’d dragged you onto his lap and fucked his goddess in front of the entire assembly. Bouncing you up and down until your eyes crossed in delirious pleasure. With the townspeople looking on in equal measures of shock and concern, with Sukuna’s big, warm hands on your hips, guiding you -

You’d never felt so pure.

#Sukuna #tw noncon #sukuna reader #writing #dark #dead dove do not eat

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