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h8ani · 7 months

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𝙎𝙚𝙚 𝙉𝙤 𝙀𝙫𝙞𝙡, 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙉𝙤 𝙀𝙫𝙞𝙡

Kinktober Day 6 - Sensory Deprivation

Pairing: Feitan Portor x Reader

Anime: Hunter x Hunter

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of kidnapping, reader has senses stripped from her (blindfold, tied up, earplugs), vibrator usage, lowkey Stockholm syndrome type vibes, punishment, edging, overstimulation

A/N: thank you @kkittycries for proofreading this for me god knows I needed it 🥲🥲

It's been who knows how long, you think it's been at least a year, maybe less since the day you were taken. Time moved so differently at first.

You were trapped in the basement with only a bucket to use and had a small, thin, worn down mattress to sleep on. You had no concept of time when you were down there. It was always dark and cold and you spent most of your days/nights crying until you were exhausted and sleep had come over you.

The more compliant you got, the more privileges you were given but even then it wasn't much.

You've asked him how long it's been but all he gives is a gruff scoff and a simple reply of "Long."

Now you've stopped asking, you do as he wants to try to please him. By now you've upgraded from the basement, to the guest bedroom upstairs. Although, when he wants you in his room for the night you stay there.

Feitan by no means is the word soft or even kind but, the longer you've stayed in the house and the longer you've done what you're told he's been in his own way nicer to you. He allows you to add some of your own food you'd like to the grocery list, you have a nicer mattress in your room, he even leaves you alone most of the time which is a blessing in itself. You still aren't allowed to leave the house other than to go out to the backyard, the fence is so high that you wouldn't even be able to climb to escape but the fresh air was always nice too. There's been a few rare occasions where you've left the house but it's always been well into the night with him alongside you.

It's also rare that you've actually been punished.

There's been small punishments like not being given food for a few days or when your mattress was taken from you so you had to sleep on the floor, but he's never taken a blade to your skin, never harmed you, he's never tortured you like he does to his victims he brings to the house.

You're grateful for that.

But.

What you're enduring now, you've never been punished like this before, if this can even be considered a punishment.

The rope bound around your wrists was tight, rough and uncomfortable. Every move you made to free yourself burned your tender skin, your movements useless from how tightly knotted the rope connected to his bedpost was, the little strength you had doing no good. He had put a blindfold over your eyes and that was surprisingly soft, you think it was a satin material but you no longer having your sight only heightened all the emotions running through your body. You were no longer able to see Feitan or see what he was doing. You didn't even know where he was in the room. You tried focusing on the only sense you had left which was your hearing, you had focused on every little sound in the bedroom but Feitan ended up taking that away from you too. Earplugs were soon put in diminishing the last sense you had.

You were completely cut off from your senses. No sight, no hearing, not even a simple touch.

The only thing you were able to feel was your impending orgasm which was continually cut short.

You didn't have a clue as to why Feitan had started this punishment. You didn't try to escape from him, you haven't tried that since the first time you were brought up from the basement. You always make sure to keep the house locked up when he was gone, curtains always drawn closed, windows locked, doors locked, you don't even go to the backyard when he's not home. That couldn't have been the reason. You were completely clueless as to why you were tied up and being tortured like this.

You clench around nothing as the vibrator pushes harder against your clit, the pressure was enough for a choked moan to leave your lips as the vibrations traveled through your body.

You can hear him scoff as he clicks the vibrator intensity up one sending you back on the edge of orgasm. Your hips rolling into the vibrator just wanting to feel release.

"You aren't meant to enjoy this." Feitan says lowly knowing you couldn't hear him, he clicks the vibrator up one more and within seconds you tip over the edge finally being able to reach the orgasm you've so rudely been getting taken away from you. Your body jerking as you let your orgasm flood your senses, wrists tugging against the rope as you cry out his name. This was the most intense orgasm you've felt and Feitan wasn't letting up as he kept the vibrator pushes up against your sensitive clit.

You were panting as you rode out your high, squirming away as best as you can from the abusive vibrator between your legs. Pushing against the bed with your feet to get away, you felt Feitan's hand grip your hip and tug you back down.

"I'm sorry." You quickly say. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You repeat the same apology over and over just wanting to get away from the pleasure that was slowly trailing into pain. "Feitan I'm sor-"

His lips cut you off, his body leaning more into yours which put more pressure on the vibrator. You whimpered into the kiss, tears threatening to spill beneath the blindfold.

He said something to you but it just sounded muffled due to the earplugs. Your brows scrunched up in frustration because of your lack of hearing. You huffed a sigh and before you could ask what he said, you felt the vibrator pull away from you, instantly calming you down and allowing you to actually come down from your prolonged high.

Your earplugs came out next and Feitan's voice sounded louder than ever.

"Sorry for what?" Feitan doesn't necessarily joke around but you could hear him teasing you clear as day.

"I'm sorry for...what I did."

"And what did you do?" He leans down, breath fanning your face and you didn't need to see to know he had a smirk plastered on his face.

"Maybe if you actually told me I'd know! I think you're just doing this because you find it amusing!" You snap at him, frustration getting the better of you.

He doesn't reply and that alone makes you nervous. It's completely silent but you feel him shift back down to your thighs spreading them further. He slowly rakes his nails down your thigh and then up again, you think he actually might be done, hoping he got bored of this punishment he was putting you through.

Then you hear the vibrator being clicked on again.

You could feel your stomach drop as he tsks at you again.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to continue until you remember."

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 6 months

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Countdown

"Villain, please-" Hero started.

"I told you not to try anything, and what did you do as soon as my back was turned? You realize you could've gotten hurt pulling a stunt like that?"

"I wouldn't have had to pull the stunt if you weren't holding me prisoner!"

"Prisoner?" Villain scoffed, "I've given you everything you could ever want, but if you insist you're a prisoner..."

Villain's expression darkened. They pulled a syringe from their pocket and approached Hero.

"I may as well treat you like one."

Hero scurried back on the bed, but Villain was quicker. They instantly jammed the syringe into Hero's skin, letting the contents flood their system. Hero's body began to feel numb and fuzzy. They collapsed on the bed, unable to hold themselves up.

"P-please-"

"The time for begging is over," Villain said, "here's what's going to happen. We're going to count down from five. I'll start us off. Five..."

Villain produced a roll of heavy-duty tape and began to wrap it around Hero, pinning their limbs together.

"Villain, wait!"

Villain ignored them. They stuffed squeezeballs in Hero's hands, then taped them up into useless stumps. They wrapped the rest of their body up, to the point that not an inch of them was visible below their neck. They then fetched a shiny, industrial black bag. The inside was coated with adhesive. They stuffed Hero inside, ignoring their protests, and vacuum sealed them in.

"Four..."

Villain shoved a squeezeball into Hero's mouth, holding it shut and smearing a strong adhesive over their lips. They then wrapped several layers of tape around their head, over their lips.

"Mm!!"

"Three..."

Villain wrapped more tape over Hero's eyes and the rest of their head. The only thing that wasn't covered was their nose.

"Mmph! Mm!"

"Shh," Villain cooed, "we're not done yet. Two..."

Villain shoved earplugs into Hero's ears, then snapped noise-canceling headphones over them as well.

"One."

They placed an oxygen mask over Hero's nose, that would keep a steady supply of the numbing drug in their system.

"Some time like this should teach you to behave," Villain said, not that Hero could hear them.

Villain left Hero's room and set about putting more security measures in place should their Hero make another escape attempt. Though Villain doubted they would after today. Meanwhile, Hero's muffled screams could barely be heard from their room.

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whoreforhorror · 7 months

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Kinktober Day Two: Sensory Deprivation with Hannibal Lector

Hannibal was the one who'd brought it up. He was curious to see the effects of sensory deprivation on a person up close, and you, his darling partner, were the perfect subject. He'd gotten everything all layed out and you were starting to suspect he's more excited about this than he's letting on. He'd spent literal weeks researching blindfolds and noise-canceling headphones and gloves and restraints. He'd looked relentlessly, only settling on the nicest silk blindfold and additional silk to bind you with. He found the absolute best noise-canceling headphones, ones that would work both with music and without. He'd done enough research that he'd even found gloves for you to wear too, so that you couldn't feel a thing with your own hands, of your own fruition.

He'd made a whole night of it too, making an elaborate brunch that he delivered to you in bed, taking you shopping, and then taking you out for an incredibly expensive dinner, both of you dressed to the nines. After the day of pampering, he leads you to your shared bed, pushing you backward gently so that you're sitting on the edge.

Hannibal grabs the silk red blindfold, kissing you as he slips the blindfold over your eyes and typing it behind your head. He kisses you once more, a quick but loving kiss to remind you he's there, and pulls back some. You can just slightly feel him moving away by the shifting of the bed.

"Can you see, my love?" Hannibal says in a voice just above a whisper. Opening your eyes to look, and all you can see is the deep, nearly blood-red. The silk is smooth and cool against your skin and you can feel your eyelashes brushing against the material.

"No, not a thing." You can practically hear the grin form on his face as you speak.

"Good" He replies simply and comes back to you, placing the headphones on your head, over your ears. The world goes silent as he does so, you can't hear, you can't see. Already, your senses are heightened. Your smell, your sense of touch, you felt on edge and honestly a bit anxious for what's to come. It's one thing to imagine but to be sat here, deprived of the basic senses you'd grown so accustomed to using... it's an erotic, sensual type of fear, one that you can quickly feel yourself getting addicted to. Especially with Hannibal.

His hands move to rest on either side of your face, each on your jaw, pulling you forward a bit and making your head tilt up just a little. He kisses you once more. A much longer kiss, filled with love and passion. Another reminder that he's still here and that you're in good hands, at least for now.

When he pulls back, it's a long stretch of nothing. It was probably only a couple of minutes but it felt like ages, an eternity stretching on as you waited without sight or sound for Hannibal to do something, anything that you can feel. The time stretches on and on, so when you feel his hand back on your shoulder, you jolt with surprise as your breath hiches softly.

Hannibal's hand slides down from your shoulder to your hand, taking it gently and guiding you to stand and walk a few paces forward, away from the bed. There's a short stretch of nothingness before he takes your hand again, pressing a kiss to the palm, then the inside of your wrist. His actions cause butterflies to flutter in your stomach as it flips, flustering you enough that you barely even notice as he slips the soft gloves onto your hands. You reach forward to touch him, but he grabs you gently by the wrist, bringing your arm behind your back and proceeding to do the same with the other.

You feel the smooth, cool fabric on your arms, the silk restraints. He winds the material around and between your arms, tying them close together, tight but not restricting the blood flow. As his touch leaves you once more, you test the restraints just a bit, trying to pull them apart or twist and wriggle out. The restraints hold strong, your arms aren't going to be freed until Hannibal wants them to be.

Hannibal's hands make their way back to you once more, holding your face as if he were holding a precious Fabergé egg, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks gently as he holds you. His lips find their way back to yours, a moth to a flame, kissing you with a passion that grows from loving to fervored and hungry. He walks you backward, step by step, his lips never leaving yours until you hit the bed with the back of your legs, falling backward, a short gasp escaping you. The mattress cushions your fall, leaving you lying on your back, legs hanging off the bed at the knees, blinded, deafened, and bound.

Fem:

Hannibal's hands find themselves on your knees, spreading your legs a fair degree. His lips land on the inside of your knee, pressing a gentle kiss there too. One of his hands glides upwards, fingers hooking the bottom of your skirt and pulling it upward. The air hits your legs as your skirt moves up your lower thighs, up your upper thighs, up until it's just barely covering what it needs. Hannibal's lips trail up, following the hem of your skirt and peppering your inner thigh with short kisses. The butterflies in your stomach feel like a raging storm at this point, and your breath shortens as your face flushes.

Then, his touches disappear entirely. No kisses, no hand on the knees, no hand pulling up your skirt. You're left, lying on the bed with your skirt pushed up high enough that your panties peek out from beneath, the air brushing past your legs, reminding you of just how exposed and vulnerable you are right now. He's gone for several minutes now.

Sitting back, he's in an armchair in the bedroom, notepad and pencil in hand, observing you closely and taking notes. Every twitch, every change in breath, every single thing you do he takes notes on. Beyond taking notes, you can certainly count on him making sketch after sketch of these moments as he commits them to memory.

The longer he takes, the more you start to test the restraints and the heavier your breath grows, the anxiety and tension building and building, blooming into a combination of fear of the unknown and arousal from the lack of control or knowledge you have in the situation.

It takes seventeen minutes for Hannibal to stand from his chair. You're left in the dark, literally and metaphorically, unaware of where he is or what he's doing. He could be long gone from the room, he could be observing, he could be anything else under the sun.

A hand on your exposed thigh causes you to jump again, the long stretch of nothing leaving you on edge. His hand trails higher and higher, pushing your skirt fully up to your hips and pulling your panties to the side. You can feel the warmth of his breath before he presses a kiss onto your clit. He wastes no time starting to lick and suck, eating you out like you're his last meal.

Pleasure courses through your entire body, making you moan and writhe, the loss of your senses heightening every little touch of Hannibal's. You'd reach for his hair if your arms weren't bound. Your own pleasured moans and groans echo in your mind, the only thing you can hear. You've got no way of knowing how loud or quiet you're being either, adding a layer of freedom to the experience. Something so raw and unfiltered about not knowing or caring how you sounded, how you looked.

One of Hannibal's hands slid up to your stomach, the other hooking across your hips to hold you down as he continued to eat you out. His tongue circles and zig-zags and licks in straight lines, each and every movement feeling like the only thing you've ever felt and the only thing you'll ever feel, and it's fucking mindblowing.

Your thighs and stomach start to clench involuntarily and your back arches off the mattress. Hannibal only buries his head deeper between your thighs, sucking and licking with more fervor than he had thus far. Your climax makes you see stars behind the silk blindfold.

Your body falls slack onto the bed as Hannibal moves away from you again. Your dress's skirt is pulled back down to cover you properly, and Hannibal's lips are back on yours, kissing you once more with slow, gentle passion this time. You can taste your cum on his lips and it only serves to drive you crazier, wanting him to never stop. It was addicting. He was addicting.

Hannibal sits you up just enough to take the gloves and binding silks off your arms, gently laying you back onto the mattress as he gives you yet another peck on the lips. He takes the headphones off next, followed by the blindfold. Once everything is off, he gives you a charming smile.

"Hello again, my darling."

Masc:

Hannibal's hands find themselves on your knees, spreading your legs a fair degree. His lips land on the inside of your knee, pressing a gentle kiss there too. One of his hands glides upwards, fingers around your belt, pulling it loose and unbuttoning the dress slacks you'd worn out. He pulls them off you gently, the air hitting your legs as your lower half is left in your boxers. Hannibal's lips trail upwards, peppering your inner thigh with short kisses. The butterflies in your stomach feel like a raging storm at this point, and your breath shortens as your face flushes.

Then, his touches disappear entirely. No kisses, no hand on the knees, no hands roaming your thighs. You're left, lying on the bed in your boxers, the air brushing past your legs, reminding you of just how exposed and vulnerable you are right now. He's gone for several minutes now.

A hand on your exposed thigh causes you to jump again, the long stretch of nothing leaving you on edge. His hand trails higher and higher, going to the opening of your boxers and pulling your cock free from its confines. You can feel the warmth of his breath before he presses a kiss to the underside of your shaft, just above your balls. He wastes no time running his tongue up it, wrapping his hand around and pumping before kissing your tip and taking you in his mouth fully.

Pleasure courses through your entire body, making you moan and writhe, the loss of your senses heightening every little touch and lick of Hannibal's, the warmth of his mouth quickly becoming an addiction. You'd reach for his hair if your arms weren't bound. Your own pleasured moans and groans echo in your mind, the only thing you can hear. You've got no way of knowing how loud or quiet you're being either, adding a layer of freedom to the experience. Something so raw and unfiltered about not knowing or caring how you sounded, how you looked.

One of Hannibal's hands slid up to your stomach, the other hooking across your hips to hold you down as his head bobs up and down, tongue running up the underside and him occasionally pulling back entirely to pump and stroke you with his hand. Each and every movement feels like the only thing you've ever felt and the only thing you'll ever feel, and it's fucking mindblowing.

Your thighs and stomach start to clench involuntarily and your back arches off the mattress. Hannibal only takes you in deeper, sucking and licking with more fervor than he had thus far. Your climax makes you see stars behind the silk blindfold as you cum down his throat.

Your body falls slack onto the bed as Hannibal moves away from you again. Your boxers are slid back on to give you a bit of decency, and Hannibal's lips are back on yours, kissing you once more with slow, gentle passion this time. You can taste your cum on his lips and it only serves to drive you crazier, wanting him to never stop. It was addicting. He was addicting.

"Hello again, my darling."

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