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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months

Note

Hi!! Hope everything is going well!

Could I Please ask for some bottom buggy (mayhaps with some watersports since I saw you had a interest) or some ftm crocodile being fucked into submission!

Have a nice day.

Ftm Sir Crocodile x male reader

Ficlet

I love Sir Crocodile so much 🗣️ 🗣️

Reader is part of Buggy’s crew, cuz I thought that would be hilarious. Reader doesn’t have a devil fruit, but is still super kickass. Hes kind of the information gatherer, smuggler, etc, for the Buggy crew. Reader is also normal human height.

Mixed terminology for Crocs bits. Also, breeding/pregnancy? kink warning ig. but its just mentioned for the fantasy.

The Cross Guild appeared great for any outsider or lesser in the know members, which was most of them. They all saw your captain as someone great and almost godly, thinking he was so much more than he was, but you had been with him for many years, even before the Buggy pirates had even been created. Shortly after the execution of Rogers, Buggy had stumbled into your path and had accidentally saved your life, and from then on you had been by his side.

Most people thought of you as something akin to an accountant or treasurer, wearing an outfit that looked very much like that of a ringmaster, long red tailcoat and top hat and all. You were always one of the first to run away, giving you a reputation of a coward who couldn’t fight.

The only one who truly knew how much of a threat you could be, would be your captain and his inner circle, which you were also part of. You might not have been the strongest physically compared to someone like Mihawk, but no one could gather information like you could, smuggle like you could, or have someone “disappear” like you could. Your network was so extensive that even the one they called Joker, who you knew was none other than Donquixote Doflamingo, was jealous.

That was why you knew everything about Sir Crocodile and Mihawk before the day was over when the Cross Guild was formed. You cowered off to the side, keeping up your weak act as you flinched at their raised voices or the light reflecting off Crocodiles golden claw.

They believed you a weak fool who’s only worth was your quick mind and ability to calculate numbers quicker than most computers, which resulted in them mostly dismissing you. It was a role you basked in and felt comfortable, using it to keep your true identity under wraps. That was until they pushed your captain too far, as Crocodile especially seemed to take great pleasure in antagonizing and hurting your captain.

You were protective, most pirates were, if they felt any sense of loyalty to their captain. It was because of that, that you dug up a trusted contact, a celestial dragon with greater access to seastone than anyone else you knew. Using measurements from the moment’s clothes had to be made, a pair of cuffs in just the perfect size soon arrived to you with the post.

It was easy to press Crocodiles buttons, to get him worked up by acting stupid and pathetic, just the way you knew made his blood boil. It was even easier to enrage him so far that he chased after you, so blinded by his anger that he didn’t even notice how you kept avoiding his sand, or how you were leading him further and further away from the rest of the guild.

When he finally caught up, Crocodile caged you against the wall, hook digging into the drywall as he almost snarled down at you, cigar crunched between his teeth as his purple eyes blazed. But mild confusion crossed his face as your fearful expression dropped, his body straightening as your eyes met his head on. Before Crocodile could order an explanation, a feeling of weakness crashed through his body, making his knees buckle enough that you had to catch him, supporting his towering weight and bulk.

His vision swam as you started dragging him along, his feet dragging along the floor because of his height compared to your own. Crocodile felt dizzy and mildly nauseous, his eyes finally catching the heavy bands around his wrist, the one he still had left. “ssseastone?” he slurred out, voice lighter than the growl you were used too, cigar long forgotten somewhere along the journey.

In the beginning, you had planned on torturing him, the blades strapped to your person burning at the thought, but as you threw him down almost carelessly on a barely clad bed, a different through passed through your mind.

A slight thrill ran down your spine as his purple eyes burnt into you, his usual anger still present, but mixed with something else, something deeper and hungrier. Soft pants left Crocodiles lips, sounding faintly struggled as the seastone drained the power from his body, leaving him limp and pliant.

You could see the heat rising to Crocodiles cheekbones as you started stripping off your usual getup, tailcoat slid off your shoulders and neatly folded, top hat placed down with care. “What the hell are you doing…” Crocodile rasped from the bed, his pupils blown as an unfamiliar need unfolded inside him, the familiar thrum of pleasure running through body.

Maybe it was his weakened state, but he swore his cunt was pulsing with need, especially as you unbuttoned the stark white shirt you always wore, revealing a tightly muscled and heavily scarred body underneath, leather straps adorned with vials and weapons stretched across your torso.

Crocodile tried to shuffle his legs, maybe to squeeze his thighs together, or to spread them further apart, he wasn’t sure, but all he could do was a minimal twitch and jolt. “I planned on cutting you up, making you beg for mercy. But from the looks of it… you wouldn’t mind some other kind of discipline” you murmur, almost stalking towards him where Crocodile was splayed out on top of the white sheets.

You could see all his muscles tense as you let your hands climb up his legs, up his thighs and stomach, traveling all the way up his arms towards his hook. A choked off noise leaves Crocodile as you remove his hook with ease, like you had done it a thousand times before, placing it off to the side with care.

“Behave yourself” you tell him, squeezing the sides of his jaw to make his lips part. Crocodile tried to growl or snap a threat, to snap his teeth at you or somehow fight back, but his body was mostly unresponsive, his tongue feeling thick and useless in his mouth.

A shiver of anticipation ran through Crocodile as you moved again, settling between his thick spread thighs. Your eyes met as you reach for his belt, your brow lifting as if asking if he wanted you to stop. You may be a pirate, but you had class and manners, at least when it came to stuff like this.

But when all Crocodile responded with was a sour expression and glare, you make easy work of his belt and slacks, tugging them down his hips and legs, throwing them off to the side with little care. Your disregard for his clothes made Crocodile grumble, but the noise was quickly silenced as you pressed your entire hand against his slick underwear, fingers teasing his hard t-cock and soaked folds.

“Tsk tsk, look at you, bet you just need someone to put you in your place, is that it?” you mumble in an almost mocking tone, looking up at him with an almost feral hunger in your eyes. Crocodile chokes on the words that want to form in his throat, some kind of rebuttal perhaps, that he would never want someone as low as you to do anything to him, but as you pinch his cock between your fingers, it morphs into a shaky moan.

Crocodile’s boxers as easily pulled off, thrown to the floor with a damp plap, making his face redden further as you only find amusement in the obvious sign of his arousal. Kicking off your pants and boxers, you crawl up the bed and sit between his thick thighs, pushing them further apart to expose where he only grows slicker, hole clenching around nothing as if begging you to fill it.

“What would they say, seeing the great Sir Crocodile, spread out like this, ready to take the cock of a feeble weak treasurer” you taunt, pressing your hips closer to his, so that you could drag the tip of your cock up and down through his folds. The act has Crocodile arching as good as he can with the cuff on, his eyes squeezing shut as he clenches his jaw, a breathy noise leaving him, folds only growing slicker around you.

Maybe it was your size difference, with you being average human size, compared to Crocodiles almost 9 feet, or maybe it was his gut deep arousal, but his hole didn’t need much prep for you to be able to fit inside.

That didn’t mean you were just gonna give it to him, since this was supposed to be a lesson. A stuttery moan spills almost silently from Crocodiles lips as your fingers rub through his folds, barely pressing against where he wants you the most. He had never imagined himself in a situation like this, splayed out and dripping for you, someone he had always just seen as a nuisance, but here he was.

“Come on Crocodile… ask nicely” your tone is almost cruel as you push only two fingers inside him, barely felt because of his size, but just enough to rub against his wet gummy insides and leave him aching for more. Crocodiles jaw clenches, barring his teeth as his head weakly rolls to the side, as if to hide his face into the sheets.

“Or… I could just leave you here, thighs spread open, cunt glistening with want. Im sure someone will pass by, and who wouldn’t want a chance to fill this” as if to exaggerate your point, you push two more fingers into his slick hole, burying them as deep as possible into Crocodiles wet insides, punching a gasp out of him.

Crocodile seems to debate it, if he wants to put his pride aside for someone like you, but his thoughtprocess is knocked off course as you pinch his cock with your free hand, twisting it cruelly. Had he not been wearing the seastone cuff, his thighs would have clamped shut and a shout would have left him, but now all his body could do was tense up as a wet keen tumbled out of him.

“P…please” Crocodile finally mumbles, voice small and almost shy, but it can barely be heard over the wet slick sounds of your fingers thrusting in and out of him, his wetness running down your palm and wrist in the process.

“Hm?” you hum, the questioning tone in it clear, as if you didn’t hear him at all, giving his cock another twist just because you could. “fuck me… please…” is gasped out, Crocodiles insides clenching around your slick fingers as they rub and prod around inside him.

Your fingers movements slow to a stop, silence filling the room long enough for Crocodile to peek an eye open and look down at you. Your eyes are intense as they bore into his, the predatory flare in them making Crocodiles insides quiver. “Normally id demand better than that, but I’m starting to pity you” you scoff out, withdrawing your fingers from his hold with a slick noise.

Instead of wiping them off on the sheets, you use the large amount of slick that had gathered in your palm to slick up your shaft, releasing a huffed exhale as Crocodiles eyes widen at the sight. “I’ve thought about making you ride me, so you’ll have to make yourself take it, but we can’t do that right now, can we” you eye the cuff around his one wrist, making Crocodile growl and spit out a weak warbled “fuck you”

His insult carries no heat, clearly only for show, his glare quickly wiped off his face as you finally push inside him. Crocodile needs little time to adjust, resulting in you almost immediately setting a bruising rough pace, drawing in and out of him with loud wet slick noises, his hole gripping onto you as he gasps and moans.

Reaching down, you push his shirt up just enough to splay a hand across his lower stomach, a foxlike grin spreading across your lips as you watch his hips weakly roll into your own. “If you weren’t such an asshole, I could fuck you whenever. Imagine that Crocodile, walking around, cunt leaking my cum, as you try to play tough.” You chuckle darkly, tone thick and hungry in the way only a predatory animal could possess.

As your cock rams into that sensitive spot inside him, Crocodile is finally starting to realize you are truly more than you seem, his cunt drooling a wet puddle under him on the sheets as you take him with a new hunger, a glint appearing in your eyes as your hand presses down harder on his stomach.

“I could knock you up you know, right here.” Is hissed out as you bottom out inside Crocodile, the words making him tighten up and shiver in want. “No one would find you so scary then, would they Crocodile. Waddling around, fat with my kid” you purr, letting both your hands splay across his stomach. It was all fantasy, but by God did it make Crocodile wet and wanting. Something about the fantasy of you, some lesser subordinate knocking him, Sir Crocodile, up, had him seeing double.

The seastone didn’t help with his woozy state, all attempts at forming words only becoming half formed and slurred, Crocodiles eyes going wet and glassy as that familiar feeling spread through his body. “in… inside me…” Crocodile slurs as you curse to yourself, clearly close to the finish line as well. Had it not been for the cuffs, he would have thrown his legs around you, squeezing you against his body to keep you inside him, but all he could do now was beg.

Crocodiles pride crumbled as your fingers squeezed his cock one last time, a pure orgasmic expression crossing his face as he gasped and moaned, his entire body twitching weakly as he came, wetting your cock and the sheets even further as the feeling thrummed through his entire body.

With a deep groan you bottom out inside Crocodile for a last time, letting your eyes squeeze shut as you spill inside him, coating his insides in a thick coat of white. Crocodile whimpers weakly at the feeling, trying to squeeze around you as if to milk your length for more.

He slumps against the sheets further than he already is, eyes falling shut in a relaxed exhausted expression. Crocodile barely notices as you pull out, white leaking out from between his folds to join his own mess on the sheets. He barely even notices you cleaning him up, only twitching and gasping softly when you clean up between his legs.

Its only when the seastone cuff leaves his wrist that Crocodile returns to himself somewhat, as the familiar feeling of his devilfruit washes through his body again. Squinting his eyes open, he catches sight of you getting dressed again, tucking on your shirt, then your coat, and lastly placing your hat on top of your head.

Even with his devilfruit returned to him, Crocodile still feels weak and exhausted, but the good type of exhausted one only gets after a good fuck. Part of him wants to ask you to stay, to hold him and pet his hair, to maybe mumble more dirty fantasies about knocking him up, and how you’d make him live as your pretty little housewife. But instead, Crocodile just grunts to get your attention, his attempt to demand to know where you are going.

“I have to get back to the others, since ill be taking over your duties for the rest of the day and tomorrow” you say, voice resolute and not allowing any denial or struggle. And normally Crocodile would have growled and rejected anyone taking over his duties, but for some reason, the idea of you taking care of him made him relax deeper into the bed, muscles lax and thoughts empty and calm for once.

Approaching him, you press a soft kiss to his forehead before telling him “this room is hidden away from everyone else, so take all the time you need. Ill check up on you later” as you pat his cheek. After telling him where the bathroom is, where he could find towels and replacement sheets and blankets, you were on your way, leaving Crocodile on his lonesome.

It took a while, but he finally pushed himself into a seated position before getting to his feet. The feeling of your cum trickling down the insides of his thighs as the familiar heat of arousal burning inside him once more, making Crocodile shuffle towards the bathroom you had pointed him towards. Even though you had just left, he could still get himself off a few more times from just the memory alone.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be disciplined by you, he wondered how you’d react if he caused issues with your smuggling routes. The idea sent a line of heat up his spine as he stepped into the shower, hand quickly traveling between his thighs, fingers burying themselves into his still sensitive hole, fantasies of hungry glare and cruel fingers filling his mind.

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roseywatchingyouall · 2 months

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A punishment never to be forgotten

I want you to strip me nude and spank me. I want it to go on and on until I am sobbing brokenly into your leg not resisting and accepting powerlessness and the pain I want you to go until my ass is red as humanly possible then I want you to gently spread my thighs and suddenly land a harsh smack on my pussy which sends me howling and slamming my thighs closed, this makes you smile "oh no little one we aren't done punishing you yet". next thing I know you clamp a spreader bar between my legs and begin your new form of punishment as I begin to yell squirm and cry trying to make it all end.

After a while, you stop and pull me off you and make me kneel in the corner my only instruction being to stay after you force me into my new position. I hear you walking back and forth a little until you appear behind me and push me so my hands are braced on the wall as I kneel legs out and spread presenting my lower half to you. Then you tell me to stay like this for a moment I hope it's over until a blinding pain registers in my cunt as you use your full strength to kick it I desperately cling to the wall as I scream before I have fully recovered you deliver 2 more to my cunt and then a moment later another one which makes me fall I cry and beg for mercy on the floor looking up at you only seeing your excitement evident in your pants you grab my hair and drag me over to the bed as I scrabble behind you trying to stay upright proving too hard with the spreader between my legs until I'm hauled over your knee again. Then you say voice dripping with false sweetness as you were such a good girl you can choose wooden spoon or hairbrush.

Reluctantly I splutter out the spoon please sir, a moment later the hairbrush is at my lips as you tell me to suck moments after I start you begin ruthlessly beating my pussy ass, and thighs with the spoon for what feels like an eternity before stopping and rubbing soothing circles on my bum as my sobs soften then you tell me to go kneel upright in the corner for 30 mins then my punishment will be done. moments later you appear behind me and gently fondle my pussy for a moment before sliding something in after a moment I feel a burning sensation take over my cunt as I look down I see the wooden spoon 1/2 way in my cunt covered in a red paste which I realize is a chilly paste, I keep crying begging for mercy as you sit and fuck me with it until its all in me then you tell me my corner time is over and I was such a good girl grinning ear to ear as you remove the spreader from my legs then as I stand up you quickly put my panties on holding the spicy spoon in me effectively. You pat the bulge where the spoon pokes out gently making me wince.

I quietly whine Sir I thought my punishment was over making you grin it is little on this is your punishment for talking to me like that come along now as you grab the back of my neck and drag me outside to the shed telling me to kneel I do and I watch you put on your gloves however my panic increases as you tell me to hold open the front of my panties and move to grab a handful of nettles I beg and plead but you just give me a stern look moments later my panties are stuffed front and back with nettles and you smile knowing the agony I'm in and say right now off to bed little one you must be tired after all your crying today smiling as you watch the horror overtake my face as I realize I'm in for a long night as I follow you inside.

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bakubunny · 4 months

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shinso may be sir, but aizawa is daddy.

i will be taking no further questions, thank u for ur time. 😵‍💫

#does anyone else have like… a ranking on which titles they hold the highest? bc i do. lmao #shinsou smut #aizawa smut #x reader #f!reader #shitpost #tw daddy kink #tw sir as title #tw pet play #💖#🐰#smut hcs

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fuwushiguro · 1 year

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Turning Diamonds Into Snow

Tetta Kisaki x f!reader Genre: Smut Notes: I know a lot of people hate Kisaki (me included lmao) and he isn't very popular but I hope some of you guys enjoy this Warnings: 18+, dubcon/noncon, smoking, age gap, adultery, model!reader, sir!kink, cocaine use, substance abuse, stockholm syndrome, coercion, degradation, restraints, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, daddy kink, dumbification, slapping, breeding, creampie. Words: 3k

3am.

It’s 3am and you’re alone in a random diner, little hands clutching onto a steaming cup of coffee. You’re dying for it to cool. Not so much that it tastes disgusting, but enough that you can drink it and stop the tremors wracking through your body. People are staring, though it’s nothing new. You suspect they are likely glances of pity.

Because, truly, you look pathetic.

There are a group of boys from another booth looking over at you. Not boys, actually… men. They’re all in suits. They’ve been asking the waitress for coffee refills since you got here two hours ago.

One man is staring more intently than the others. He’s wearing round glasses. His hair combed over to one side, black and blonde streaking through unevenly. You can’t help but notice the tattoo on his hand.

Sin.

You think he might notice you staring when he puts his coffee cup down. Quickly you look away, but soon enough he’s picking it up again. This time with the other hand.

Punishment.

A bolt of fear strikes through you as you realise this group of men may not be ones you should be stuck in a diner with at this ungodly hour.

“I recognise her.” Hanma states, earning a scoff from the group he’s with.

“No shit. You’ve been staring at her since she walked in.” Kisaki explains, shaking his head and fishing around for a cigarette in the pocket of his expensive looking coat. The waitress approaches with the intention of forbidding him from smoking inside. However a deathly glare from the three men in front of her soon deters her. “Who is she?”

“Dunno. I just feel like I’ve seen her somewhere.” Hanma adds, lighting a flame for Kisaki to ignite his cigarette with.

“Probably a hooker,” Mikey chimes in, too busy focusing on his phone to be fully engaged with the conversation. Hanma rolls his eyes and returns to focus on figuring out who you are.

“That sounds right. World class hooker, hah?” Kisaki joins in with the teasing.

World class.

The words unlock something in Shuuji’s mind. World class…

“Oh fuck. She’s famous, boys.” Hanma states. It’s enough to fully steal Mikey’s attention as he raises a sceptical brow and looks in your direction. Kisaki can’t help but do the same, all three of them staring at you as they wonder if there is any truth to what he’s saying. “Give me your phone, I’ll show you.” Hanma asks.

“Huh? Use your own.”

“It’s dead. Hand it over.”

Kisaki sighs and hands his phone over to his friend. Soon enough he’s on the Instagram app and typing in your username. He places the phone down flat on the table to let mikey and Kisaki look through your profile.

“Cute.” Mikey speaks, weakly.

“She’s a model? Very cute.” Kisaki adds.

“See, look, magazine covers and runway stuff too. Not just an Instagram model, she’s a real one.” he tells them, almost as if he’s defending your honour and life choices.

Kisaki stubs out his cigarette on the table, shuffling out of the booth and standing to his feet. He folds his coat over himself. “Thanks for the tip.” he winks as he walks towards you. Hanma groans, furious he didn’t act first when he had the upper hand.

You stiffen when you notice this terrifying man is actually walking towards you. He smiles, you think he might be trying to ease your nerves. But his smile isn’t sincere, that much is clear. You feel even more scared, if anything.

“Need a refill, sweetheart?” he asks you.

“U-Um…” you can’t answer before he’s signalling the waitress to come over. “Thank you, sir.” you smile, hoping it doesn’t look too forced.

Sir, huh? Oh… he loves the sound of that.

“What are you doing out so late? Been partying… or fall out with your boyfriend?” he wonders, attempting to figure out your situation. He wants to know why you’re alone. If anyone will be asking where you went or if anyone will actually care if you don’t go home tonight.

“Y-Yeah… uh, my… boyfriend.” you stutter, flailing over your own words as you try and get them out as quickly as possible. Kisaki waits for the waitress to top up your coffee, tipping her and winking his thanks as he watches her walk away. He’d rather not have any prying ears, if possible.

“You’re not a very good liar.”

“What?”

“There’s no boyfriend, is there?” he tells you. He takes note of how uncomfortable you look and snickers, trusting it will be enough to lower your high guard. “Don’t worry, I know we look shady but I promise we aren’t.”

“I didn’t say that…” you object, feebly. It’s clear you’ve made a judgement about him before even speaking to him. And if he’s being honest, you’ve likely read him like a book.

But he’s not going to tell you that.

“We’re just off a late flight from a business trip. Trying to get some down time before we go home to our families.” he explains.

That should settle your nerves. Hearing that he’s a businessman with a family. Family will most likely translate to a wife and a few kids in your mind. And you’re not wrong about that. You can see the wedding ring on his finger. He’s even willing to show you his brood of brats if you feel the need to question him about it.

“Where was the trip?” you ask him, curiously. Travel is a weakness of yours. It’s something you’ve always planned to do and would still love to do, if circumstances were different.

“Germany.” he answers, plainly. “See how easy it is to answer questions? Don’t be shy… tell me why you’re here.” he insists. You look around, wondering if it’s the right thing to do. But, really, what’s the harm? It’s not like he can use it against you.

“I had a fight with my family… so… I just wanted some space.”

“Families are tough, babe, I understand.” he nods in agreement. He’s a master manipulator, unbeknownst to you. Offering faux sympathy and mimicking your body language to set your mind at ease. And, Christ, wouldn’t you know it? It’s working. “What was the fight about?”

“I— I’d rather not say…” you tell him. Ah. This should be good.

“C’mon.” he encourages you. He leans over the table, hoping you’ll do the same. “It can’t be that bad.” he whispers.

“W-Well…” you start, quietly, doing as he wished and leaning your face closer to his. “I like to party… but they don’t like the way I party.” you tell him in hushed tones.

“Ahhh, drugs, right?”

“Mhmmn, I like coke.” you smile, almost shyly. Would you look at that. A bona fide cokewhore. “S’not a big deal… y’know? They just don’t get it. They like to overreact, my parents are dumb strict.” you tell him.

“How old are you? You could get your own place.” he suggests, but you shake your head in response.”

“I’m twenty-five. And, yeah, I make a bunch of my own money so I should be able to move out, right? Nope… my psycho fucking parents have control of my bank account.” you explain. This is the most you’ve talked to anyone about this, and he’s a complete stranger. You have no idea why you’re telling him all of this. But it’s simple, really. You’re under his spell.

“I mean… c’mon, kiddo. Probably ‘cause of the coke habit.” he laughs. You sigh in response. “Don’t be like that, baby. I get it.”

“What do you know about it? You’re old enough to be my dad, your partying days are long over.” you respond, rudely.

“Ouch, princess has a bite, hah?” he laughs. He reaches into his coat pocket, his eyes fixated on yours. “I suppose you won’t be interested in this, then.” he grins, showing off a small bag of coke to you as discretely as he can.

“Hah, no way. What does your family think about that?”

“My family can have an opinion when they pay the bills.” he laughs, almost like he’s joking despite being deathly serious. “Interested?” he wonders. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to take his hand off at the generous honour.

“What’s the catch?” you query. With guys like this; offers like this, there’s always a catch.

“Come home with me.”

“Hah. That’s low. What about your wife?” you ask, genuinely curious how he plans to explain this away.

“Baby, I’ve got all the coke either of us could want and I’m taking business trips all over the world just for the fun of it. You think I don’t own more than one home?”

All the coke you could ever want.

It’s an enticing offer. And the more he dangles the bag in front of your face, you know you’re too weak willed to decline. It might be the worst decision you’ll ever make. But… you just can’t say no to the siren call of white powder.

And then, you’re nodding.

He smiles. An entirely evil toothy smile. But you’re already grabbing your jacket and your bag before standing up. He holds out his arm to you, offering you to link with him. He escorts you out. But not before winking at his friends with pride.

“Do you love me?”

It’s a question he’s asked every single day since you met so many months ago. He didn’t need a real answer.

Not at first.

You’d respond with a giggle. Or a boisterous laugh. Sometimes you’d answer his question with a kiss which always created a pathway into you fucking each other until the sun would rise.

Truthfully, you don’t think you’ve ever been so happy.

It’s unconventional, sure, but still you find yourself smiling every day without fail. It’s easy being with Kisaki. It’s easy being his little secret. No one knows where you are, except him. He doesn’t like it when you leave the house. He doesn’t like it when he doesn’t know where you are.

You can’t leave.

You can’t leave him.

He takes you out sometimes. He’ll blindfold you and make you lie down in the backseat of the car so no one can see you and you have no sense of direction. He always takes you to sweet yet secluded places.

The beach.

The mountains.

Eerily beautiful places that you know could be your last destination on earth. Places where he could push you to your demise or drown you so that your body gets lost at sea.

No one would know, just him.

But so far, it hasn’t come to that. He’s good to you, he is. Kisaki knows how much you love coke, so he gets it for you. He keeps you coked up to the eyeballs and sometimes you feel like a whore.

Maybe because that’s exactly what you are.

You fuck him as thanks for your coke.

You’re a coke whore.

“I love you.” you whisper, feebly, with an award winning smile after snorting a line. He grabs your face in one hand, puckering your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. Kisaki looks so serious, always. His eyebrows and constantly at a scowl and you think he has to force himself to rectify that about himself.

But he doesn’t while he looks at you.

At your lips.

He looks between your eyes and your plump, inviting lips until he can’t resist you anymore. He tilts his head and his lips meet with yours.

“I love you when you’re high.” he smiles, muttering words between kisses.

And you laugh, kissing him back so sweetly.

“I love you when I’m high.”

And just like that, you’re weightless. He picks you up by your thighs, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He drops you down roughly onto the dining table. His body weight on top of your is intoxicating. The way he kisses and alternates to nibbling your lower lip while he tries to undress all at once is dizzying.

You watch him as he throws his shirt across the room and he starts to work at his belt.

“Arms up.” he instructs, and you obey. You hold your arms above your head together, knowing full well what he’s about to do. “Such a good little whore, aren’t you? Do anything for me and your habit.” he laughs.

You giggle at him, he likes it when you entertain how mean he can be to you. You’ll accept anything he wants to do to you, because if you don’t you know he can cut you off.

So of course you don’t mind that he wants to bind you with his belt, your wrists restricted and trapped by the leg of the dining table.

You watch him carefully as he circles back around you, climbing on top of you and studying your body beneath him. He grabs two fistfuls of your little vest and rips it apart with ease. Your breasts exposed to the chill in the air and bouncing freely. He cups one, fondling the nipple and almost salivating at your bare flesh.

It seems he wants to suck them, but for whatever reason he’s holding himself back.

“Tell me how bad you want me.” he demands.

“Mmpf, Tetta I’m— ‘m so wet. Please, I need you. M-My panties are—”

“What?” he smirks, “Your panties are what?”

You look away, feeling shy. A rush of heat flocks to your face and you can’t help but squirm under his stare. He hooks his fingers into your shorts and yanks them down in one fell swoop. He can’t stop smiling at the way your legs are wriggling and writhing against the table.

It’s him.

What he does to you is unspeakable.

You can’t decide if you want your legs open or closed. So he just watches in fascination as you try to decide. Though eventually it grows tiresome for him. When your legs are open, he keeps them open. Slapping your inner thighs near your pussy and strictly instructing that you keep them open. He runs a line over the fabric between your pussy lips from your sopping hole up to your clit.

“Oh you little slut. You are fuckin’ soaked.” he speaks, his eyes filled with lustrous malice. He puts his head between your thighs after moving your panties into the crease of your thigh. He repeats what he had done with his finger but with his tongue, and you can’t help but shudder and moan, clamping your thighs around his head. “Oh, no, babe. Your treat was the coke. This pussy is for me. You’re gonna give me a treat now.” he reminds you.

He frees his thick cock and lines it up with your dripping slot. Fresh tears roll down your eyes as he slowly plunges inside of you. It’s good…

It’s good.

It’s so fucking good.

“Dirty coke whore aren’t ya?” he laughs, thrusting in and out of you at a hurried pace. “Say thank you, right fuckin’ now, say ‘thank you, daddy.’”

“Mmpf, thank you! T-Thank you, daddy!” you wail, biting your lip over and over between moans as he ploughs inside of you. Your head is moved quickly to the side. It takes you a moment to register what happened until you feel the familiar sting of his striking palm.

“Stupid cock drunk girl,” he grins, “What are you even thankin’ me for? Do you know, baby? Use that cute li’l head of yours to think about it.”

“I— I— f-for letting me stay here… w-with you!” you tell him. He smiles, raising his eyebrows as if he’s looking for more. “Thank you for the coke, daddy! I love you! I l-love you s’much!” you sob, almost screaming through how perfectly he’s ruining your precious cunt.

“What else? C’mon, gorgeous, you’re happy right now because of daddy, yeah? So say thank you.” he commands. His cock throbs aggressively and the sight of the little gulp you just took slithering down your tiny throat.

“Thank you for fucking me! I love your cock, daddy, I do! T-Thank you for giving it to me!” you explain.

He grunts at that, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he humps into you, moving you further and further up the dining table. You can see a prominent vein bulging in his forehead as he fucks you with a vengeance.

“So tight, so fuckin’ tight baby.” he tells you. “Cumming soon, yeah? Can feel how close you are.”

“Can I, daddy? Can I p-please cum f-for you?” you groan, desperately.

“Yes, baby,” he nods, “Cum on daddy’s cock.”

You only wish you could cling onto him while you unfurl around him. You wish that you could rake your fingers down his back and break the skin. It’s a desperate need as you keep cumming and cumming for him. There’s no way to steel yourself. You have nothing to grab onto to ground yourself and keep you on earth with him. You are in ecstasy, moaning and clamping around him as you get through your high.

And once you finally finish, he can’t help but watch you in awe. The way the aftershocks wrack through your body and you’re spasming on his cock. He pounds you with every single bit of body weight he has behind it, flooding your walls with his white and creamy cum.

He kisses between your breasts and sucks on your tits while he spurts load after load of himself into you, not wanting to waste a drop of his essence. It belongs inside of you.

He belongs inside of you.

When he eventually pulls out, his cum can’t help but throb out of you. With each pulse of your aching pussy, his sperm is forced out. He fingers it back inside, lovingly, rubbing his thumb over your clit at the same time.

“Mine.” he tells you, eyes focused on yours.

“Y-Yes, daddy.”

“I cum in this whenever I want, so it’s mine. And you are mine.”

“Yours, daddy, always.”

“Do you love me?” he queries.

“I love you.”

“Do you want to leave me?”

“No, daddy, I’ll never leave you.”

He smirks at that.

You say it like you have a choice.

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