[That cold energy snaps through the air, severing his restraints — he lets out a breath at the sudden rush of freedom against the issuance of that command. At this stage, Sasuke listens to the compliancy forced upon him and shifts against the headboard, pushing his body back down in a stretch of willowy limbs, soft with curves he's not accustomed to possessing. It's only the third time in this form, but he thinks he's getting used to it; Cy's condition, however, will push him neatly to the limit of that familiarity.
He doesn't question it in the moment. They've reached a part of the scene, organically, where he will fight less than he will surrender, weakened by Cy's exercise of control over him, by the cool drain of tears.
Movement jars the silver chain where it drapes his belly, jolting pierced nipples. He grits his teeth against it — shyly, reluctantly allowing his thighs to fall apart, to slip his right hand down between them. As soon as he dares to touch fingers to the wet folds of his cunt, he's reminded of the pain still living here too, an accidental graze of knuckles at pierced flesh sending an electric wave of it through nerve-ends. With a whimper, he thumbs his clit gently — but the intensity of such a sensation draws his hand down instead, as if afraid of it. Everything feels slick, wet, hotter than he expects. He pushes a finger into himself and almost rolls onto his side from how it feels, how good and how strange, cheek turned away on the sheets.]
（ he sees that urge to turn, the twist of the boy's hips as he fights his own pleasure. cy reaches out to cage sasuke's knees with both hands, forcing him to keep his legs open, apart. a reminder that he has no latitude to remove himself from vulgar display. he belongs to cy, and there is only one will that dictates now what he may or may not do.
his hands skirt upwards, from knee to pale thighs not notably less muscular, and he thumbs at the outer labia, parting them with a stroke. sasuke's cunt is equally as pretty as his cock — rosy pink skin reddened with arousal, swollen and slick. if not for the context of the scene, he would lean down and put his mouth on the boy and suck at his tender clit until he'd wrung a dozen orgasms out of him and rendered him physically exhausted and insensible — but instead he shifts the grip of his left hand to free up his thumb, and he pushes down against sasuke's clit, knowing that the pressure will roll the nerve against the metal bar beneath the root of it. he turns it into a slow, torturous rub that marries pleasure and pain, watching sasuke's face for any signs of undue discomfort. ）
Just one finger? （ his tone is equal parts mocking and chiding. ） You must know you'll need to take more than that. I want you three deep on the next stroke. I don't care if it hurts.
（ it'll certainly be a stretch with the dildo tied against him, but he's confident sasuke can handle it. while it's not wholly similar, they've done enough work with anal training and worked him up through several sizes of dildos that the concept of being penetrated, of accepting intrusions into his body, is no longer a foreign concept. he'll just have to rewire his own perceptions to feel through a lens of altered anatomy. ）
And once you've come for me like this, I'm going to fuck you. （ he shifts his weight on the bed, and bends to kiss sasuke's knee. ） Every day, even if you sob or beg or fight me. Until you're carrying my child.
（ he eases off the torture of his clit, letting his fingers curl wetly around the chain to follow it upwards to the divergent leads to each breast. he chases one chain and cups the bruised, reddened flesh where it terminates, kneading into it, reigniting the pain of the caning. ）
And if you think that means I'll stop, that you'll get a moment's respite in exchange for the use of your body, you're wrong. You'll be spreading your legs for me like a whore from the earliest stirrings of pregnancy until the end. You were once a proud military commander, a fearsome warrior — now you're just an empty vessel for my use, my pleasure, my bloodline. No one else could have defeated you so thoroughly, so completely — could own you as entirely as I do now. Say that you're mine.
[There is no escaping that forced exposure. Sasuke does not fight it, even when the unprotected display of his body in this state — pierced and strung with obscene jewelry, soft with curves, breasts red and inflamed from the attention of the cane — is so vulgar and filthy that he might have once violently tried to conceal himself from view. Not with Cy now, and not within the context of this scene, bargain made under the agreement that he would be subservient to this man's every merciless whim.
Yet he's not prepared for the intensity of that attention paid to his clit, nerves screaming with the fire of pleasure-pain like the afterfall of a lightning strike. It's easier to access his cunt with the aid of Cy's fingers keeping him spread, dark curls damp and shining with his own thick arousal, folds so swollen and slippery it would be more challenging one-handed. Yet for a moment he can do — nothing, hooked on the trembling fervor of that sensation, clit rubbed against the metal of the piercing where it is most tender. His thighs shake and his back curves, sobbing on the breath in his throat. He feels he could come from this alone — but it isn't what Cy demands of him.
Tentatively, Sasuke pairs index and ring finger alongside middle when he pushes inside of himself again, the additional stretch throbbing through him in a way that makes him less careful with his words, less defiant, leaning more into the submissive performance for Cy's eyes alone.]
It hurts. [With the dildo still plugged inside of him, it feels like there's so little room for his fingers.] It's too much.
[Cy's dark words roll through him, a squirming restlessness that fights superficially against the way he's touched, sore breasts cupped and fondled.]
I, I'm... [his mind is empty, a slush of thoughts never formed to anything substantive, somewhere right on the cusp of that next blistering orgasm.] I'm — yours. I'll be yours. Only you. [And then his body takes over for everything else, spasming through the rush of that heightened pleasure — feeling release pour through him, clenching down hard on his own fingers, on the unyielding toy, crying out as fresh tears leak from the corners of eyes. At first he seems to fight it, turning his face against the bed and trying to drag himself up the sheets away from it, but the tide is so powerful that he can't. He's helpless to ride it out.]
（ it's said with approval, uncharacteristic for the role he's playing but perfectly in line for himself — letting his palm drift from sasuke's breast down along his belly, down to the sparse triangle of soft curls to the folds of his cunt. if sasuke tries to pull his hand free he disallows it, bracing his own hand over the boy's and adding a finger that grooves between the boy's own. cy, then, guides the thrust of their joined hands, backing out just enough that the sink of their touch is tantalizing into that wet, velvet clench of heat. they carve space out into this body, the passage eased by arousal and orgasm, and cy gives him no mercy for overstimulation. if sasuke thrashes, he'll only hold him down. ）
[There's a panicked thrash, held down and subdued by the man's body on top of him, the additional width of another finger pushed inside of him. He aches from the burn of that stretch on the heels of orgasm, the physical intensity at such a degree that he's weak, panting, desperate to escape or to end the torment in some other way — the one demanded of him like a hot splash of water across his skin, color high on his face.]
Wait... stop...
[Ragged breath sobs out of him as the pressure builds again in his belly, heavier somehow, slower to reach the peak of that fruition — he tries to close his legs against it, to keep it trapped inside of him, but Cy makes that impossible. Their joined fingers give the simulated illusion of fucking. He rocks up, into that violation, knuckles spearing him a little deeper, a little rougher, until he's crying out from the force of that second orgasm — wrung to the last sensitive nerve and shivering muscle.]
（ sasuke begging him to stop is like a livewire spark that crawls up his spine and settles somewhere at the cervical spine like a weight — and he feels it when kulo vayn is suddenly and abruptly awake. he comes and goes in the back of cy's mind, driven to dormancy by unending captivity and its lack of tolerance for enslavement, briefly awake when its interest is provoked. sasuke says stop and that single word swallows his focus like an eclipse.
for a moment his vision seems doubled, and his hands not his own, the sensation dreamlike, as if he's moving underwater. his mouth feels dry, but the sense of thirst that follows like the swell of a tide is for blood. the thought that peels along the thoroughfare of his thoughts is for how much sasuke would tolerate before he began to beg for real. before he started panting hades through frenetic hiccupping sobs, the bell a chiming symphony. until there was blood enough to soak the sheets and to make pale skin moon-silvered with shock.
sasuke is everything kulo vayn would have wanted in a warborne child. strong, beautiful, resilient, malleable as soft clay from the impure earth. if sasuke's world had been one of the eleven, he could imagine kulo vayn offering him the same deal that he'd offered to eska rao — endure me and i will leave you and your world alive.
kulo vayn does not have the capacity for deception, not exactly. he would leave the world alive, meaning he would not pull a blood-drenched godslayer weapon from its spent core. but of the people that called it home — there was no hope for them from the moment kulo vayn stepped between worlds to breathe their air. eska rao, one of the three, left a broken custodian of a desolate graveyard in osiere.
the room tilts, shifts, falls away. eska looked little like sasuke, skin like drunken midnight, eyes silver as a blade, broader and more muscular until torture ground them to a shadow. but the strength, the beauty in defiance, the will, those things run along parallel lines, and for a moment he cannot say which one is beneath him begging. he pulls their tangled hands free of the boy's cunt, and closes his eyes a moment, leaning against sasuke's knee as he sits back, forehead pressed against the jut of the bone. his breathing is measured, and he presses a kiss against cool skin. ）
Pomegranate.
（ his voice is sure, steady, cradled by a calm that seems like it could have been borrowed from the space before a storm. ）
[The hazy gauze brought by orgasm fades as soon as that word splits the air, and Sasuke sits up, a jolt of movement chasing the quick pace of his heart with worry. An apology almost falls out of his mouth — but, in the past, Cy has gently moved him away from such reactions, and he tries to stay that reflex now. Cy tells him that he's okay. He has to trust those words. The word used is not a full stop, as they've both done in the past, but rather a slow steer of tactics, a careful change.
Yet the need to comfort draws up too powerful to resist, and he wipes his messy hand on the bedsheets before he reaches for the man, petting at skin, craning to try and kiss what he can in a bend forward where Cy sits between his legs.]
（ sasuke reaches for him, offering comfort and support that cy hates to solicit when he's been made to bear the brunt of the scene's suffering. but he's turned him away once before when sasuke thought only to console him, and it isn't something he'd do again lightly.
he lets himself adjust how he's sitting, coming forward into that kiss to meet him halfway. nuzzling against his cheek. less considerately, he doesn't wipe his hand before letting it come up to cradle the back of sasuke's neck so he's not supporting himself with only core muscles. ）
[An effortless surrender of sentiment, uncaring of the tacky touch of wetness to the back of his neck if it means — this, the love between them, the reciprocation of physical affection.]
I've enjoyed everything we've done so far. There's nothing I would change. [His head turns, gently resting his brow down and against Cy's throat, feeling that unnatural warmth where it emanates from smooth skin. He inhales the scent he's come to know and adore.] You haven't hurt me. Not in any way I didn't want you to. That was the first time it ever seemed so effortless — pleasure at my own hand.
[Maybe his words are unnecessary, but he wants to say them anyway, because they're true. Cy has taught him to trust honesty and boundaries, but this is the first time they've tried a more complex scene of this nature. It doesn't surprise him; it must be hard on Cy, more than anything.]
（ his fingers work against the back of sasuke's neck, stroking the skin above the collar very gently as he just pulls him into a sitting position and then leans in against him, letting sasuke take his weight as he slumps against his shoulder. gratitude shivers through him, and he knows — sasuke has caught the nuance of his pause and is offering all the assurances he knows how. love is a tender demonstration, glittering between them like a web of gemstones catching light, and he just. breathes. the scent of arousal is heady in the room, distinctly different with sasuke's changed biology than in his male form but familiar just the same. ）
Should I be worried about the Sharingan letting you read my mind?
（ it's a tired, humorous murmur, spoken against the hollow at his clavicle. ）
Ah, no. You're just getting it from the other side now.
[The soft smile touches his lips where they remain close to Cy's skin, unwilling to part. His hair, bound in its braid, feels heavy where it drapes over his body — and the continued pause makes him more aware of all the places where he's sore and aching — but none of these sensations are too unpleasant.]
That's what it means to know someone as well as you know yourself. Like the other half of your soul.
[He kisses Cy's cheek, missing slightly, landing closer to his ear.]
（ there's a huff of amusement that doesn't quite make it into a laugh as he pulls sasuke against him properly for another kiss. a second is pressed to the bridge of his nose, and then to his forehead, and then cy folds him into an embrace, a tangle of limbs made less awkward by the love. ）
The other half of my soul has fantastic tits right now. You look so good in the body jewellery it's hard to focus on anything that isn't worshipping you.
（ one hand skirts between them and cups one heavy breast, thumbing very gently at the piercing. ）
I think I'd really enjoy putting you in clothing that accentuates your beauty, male or female. I want to do more of this later.
[He makes a considering noise, right hand falling to encircle Cy's wrist with pale fingers, leaning a little bit of his weight forward to push the swell of his breast into that hand. The piercing tugs gently, making him more aware of sore and sensitive nipples — but also the red glitter of gems that adorn his body. Cy's color.]
We can, [is the quiet agreement.] Do more. I wouldn't mind wearing anything you wanted me to.
[There's a slight shift, nuzzling his head into the crook of Cy's throat.]
You promised to fuck me, though. We don't have to do it in the scene. I just want you.
（ cy kisses at his hair, and at the insistent press of that breast against his palm he kneads at the skin with care, pushing sasuke back enough that he can admire the way the chains fall heavy between his breasts. he bends, and closes his mouth over one nipple, tasting the metal of the piercing and the faint, distant ghost of blood. there's a gentle suck, cheeks hollowing out as he laves at the tender spot with his tongue, and then he breaks away to press another kiss against his sternum. his hand drops away from sasuke's breast between his legs, petting at his cunt in a way that's more possessive than it is strictly sexual. ）
I'm good to keep going if you're up for it, but it wouldn't hurt my feelings to call the scene and segue into the sappy vanilla lovemaking, either. How're you feeling?
[The touches are quick to reignite an arousal that has simmered temporarily low, now turned into a brighter flame, pushing hips up to rub his cunt, wet and messy, against Cy's hand. He leans back in a display of the soft curves of this temporary body. It isn't deliberately meant to be seductive — but there is a flash of confidence here, knowing Cy likes how he looks this way.]
Then, I want to continue the scene. [Cy's threats are not far from his mind. Being possessed, being fucked until he's full and mindless and wholly owned, bred by a man who has conquered him.] I want to be yours.
[He reclines on the bent elbow of his right arm, legs hooking themselves around Cy's hips with a definitive purpose.]
Okay. Gimme a sec to get myself back up to speed here.
（ it's not a hardship. the reprieve has pushed kulo vayn back down into the darkest depths of his mind, and he feels — himself again. he's a little unsteady, but it's something to be accepted rather than railed against. he can weather timeless grief, and sasuke, he knows, will help him.
he doesn't get undressed, just unzips his fly again and takes his softened cock out. getting back into the mindset shouldn't take much more than an act of will — he slicks his hand against the hot crux of sasuke's body and uses the evidence of his arousal to palm his dick, stroking himself back to full mast. ）
I want to marry you. （ perhaps sasuke will recognize the faint shift into another fantasy, meant to bolster. ） I want to wear the Uchiha crest and colours and say I love you in every language I've ever learned.
[There's a slow nod, and Sasuke just — watches, feeling a soft warmth inside of him bloom deeper at the sight of Cy like this, in the careful transition from reality to the play of fantasy at his own request. He wants to kiss Cy, but the man is a little too out of reach above him once he's lying down, so he settles for finding Cy's other hand and bringing it to his cheek, nuzzling against it, kissing fingers.
He can't deny that it's arousing to watch Cy get himself hard again with the wetness from between his own legs, but — the words are a different blow. Emotion swells up behind his ribs, and he doesn't fight the few tears that pinch from the corners of eyes on the wave of it. He is not so self-conscious of crying around Cy any longer, no matter the reason, so there's no resistance.]
I want that too. I love you. [First in Japanese, then again in French.] I love you. [And then, Chiskikani—] T'che verai.
（ sasuke kisses his fingers, and he brushes a soft touch against his cheek, just — luxuriating in the touch, the nearness. the scene is not daunting in and of itself — truly, having a safe space to play out darker fantasies settles an itch in his brain he tends to just ignore, or downplay. it isn't often he meets someone who can take all of him unflinching. the possibility of having met and forgotten such people is, of course, always there — in the back of his mind like a raw nerve. one day, sasuke will similarly slip from the annals of anamnesis. but he likes to think that there will be something he will hold onto, the way he clings to the few and precious recollections from auhle's life, from his years with tak, from time burnished across worlds and filtered through the stained glass of an impossible reckoning.
his thumb traces sasuke's bottom lip, swollen with where he'd bitten it earlier, and he lets himself sink back into arousal. into the scaffolding of the scenario laid out between them. to be a brutal warlord is nothing new to him, nor is the act of bending others to his will. but he knows, rationally, that it's not just him driving it forward. pushing it on someone who's agreed out of fear of consequence. sasuke enjoys it, asks for it, participates so beautifully beneath his touch — his control is surrendered, not taken.
and it's enough. it's enough that the lust crawls back, and his cock stiffens in the furrowed grasp of his left hand, and when he's ready: ）
Okay. （ a soft exhale. he lifts his gaze and meets sasuke's eyes, mismatched and all the more uniquely beautiful for it. there's a soft brush of his fingertips against his cheek, smudging tears. then: ） Taenarum.
（ it's a door. he just has to step through it and the mask comes down — his expression shifts from that soft, cracked-open vulnerability to something riven by conquering cruelty. he takes sasuke by the wrist and pins his hand flat against the bed, knocking his thighs apart to kneel between them. he speaks, then — but whatever he says is a string of profanity that does not survive in the space between speech and the sundered sear of a damaged mind. he does not think of eska, and shores up the wall between who he has chosen to be and what he was made — he can feel kulo vayn shift restlessly behind it, but he can block it out. sasuke's given him that strength.
what he is aware of is the tight, slick heat of sasuke's cunt as he pulls the boy by one hip to meet him. the way his cock sinks into him, the way that even in this form sasuke feels made to take him in. the dildo juts against the back vaginal wall, he can feel the unyielding penetration of silicone so acutely that it's almost ruinous, leaving him awash in a purely animal sensation. it becomes a thing marshalled only because he has the experience to focus elsewhere. in this case on the shifting muscle of sasuke's forearm as he feels him tense beneath him, the way unshed tears catch light in his eyelashes. cy seats himself fully in a ruthless drive, his other hand falling to brace against the mattress near sasuke's head.
this time, cy kisses him with no trace of tenderness, and then murmurs in his ear: ）
Dark hair, beautiful eyes. （ it's a callback that sasuke should recognize, the first time they'd done something like this together — albeit in genjutsu. ） Life will take root in your body, （ a brief lift of his hand, palm stroking down sasuke's abdomen to knead into the flesh where a child would grow. ） and you'll grit your teeth against that indignity too, won't you? You'll be my woman, my whore — the mother of my children. My war prize — forever.
[He witnesses that shift between who Cy is and the role he's playing now — a seamless transition, done with the practiced discipline of someone who has lived too long, moving between worlds, learning new cultures and new languages and people. It paves a way for himself to do the same, even if his own attempt is a little rougher, a little more awkward. The tears can be excused as a response to pain when he's first pushed into, Cy's cock filling him in that perfect, ruthless slide disallowing him even the space to breathe between the crush of their bodies. Sasuke's inexperience at this roleplay, when they were removed briefly from the scene, means that at first he elicits a moan of pure and gratified pleasure — only to catch it and grind his teeth over the sound, letting it collapse into a whine that strangles in his throat.
Yet it's so much more than he expects to feel, that dual penetration of both Cy's cock and the toy buried deep in his ass, held in place by the coin knot fixed around his hips. He fights it, because this is meant to be an unwilling act, but he does it with the awareness that the battle is lost — that this is a step over a line that cannot be undone. Heels dig into the bed and he thrashes in a poor attempt to kick the man off of him, weakened after suffering two orgasms and the fatigue of continued ruthlessness.
Sasuke's mouth is pliant in the kiss, neither returning nor resisting the intimate seal of lips. And he does recognize what Cy says to him, that shadow of a fantasy he desperately wants as a whole and realized future, blurred at the edges now by the context of this scene. Cy will find his cunt no less wet for the hard push of penetration, even as he can't seem to relax around the man's cock, those hot interior walls maintaining a tight, involuntary clench between competing sensations in two holes.]
Not — forever. [A tiny spark of defiance, even as he moans again at the caress of that hand low on his belly.] You'll... tire of me one day. [As if trying to convince himself, and noticeably not a remark of his own wants.] Until then, I'll — bear with this. You'll never have the satisfaction of... breaking me.
'making sasuke participate in his own torment is my kink' - cy, ten k years and a half
（ there's a soft, amused laugh as cy lets sasuke's hand go so he can straighten up — knees splayed to either side of the boy's hips. it's a simple thing to grab sasuke and haul him closer, forcing his pelvis into an accessible angle to spear him directly on his cock. this slight elevation leaves his shoulders pressed into the mattress, breasts a heavy spill towards his collarbones that tightens the chain in a livewire of silver and red. cy fucks into him languidly, though not deeply enough to satisfy, enjoying the vivid pressure and impossible heat of him — but he doesn't want to come like this. it's easy, and not nearly as satisfying as other possibilities he could entertain.
he hooks two fingers in the d-ring of the collar at sasuke's throat and uses it to bodily pull him upwards until he's sitting in the furrow between cy's spread thighs, dragged back onto his cock without reprieve. now, his own weight works against him — if he tries to resist or fight, cy will put his hands on sasuke's hips and force him down. their bodies are nested close, wetly sealed — of a similar enough height like this that he can lean in and claim another kiss. ）
Breaking you isn't what would satisfy me. Most people break across a long enough timeline.
（ he tugs at the chain where it hangs against the boy's sternum until it pulls at his nipples. then: ）
Ride me until I come inside you. You're strong enough for that, right?
[It's impossible to deny the strength that hauls him upright, pressure around his throat where the collar digs in — and the position change is difficult, putting his weight on his own knees between Cy's legs, keeping them narrow enough that there's little alleviation from tight penetration. Even when he fights back, tries to drag his body away, Cy pulls him back with that iron hold on his hips and forces him down, feeling the drag of slick friction as his cunt is filled.
A sob breaks out of him; his eyes are still wet from earlier emotion, but he sees no reason to suppress those tears in the moment now. The kiss, the yank at the sore and reddened peaks of nipples — all of these physical sensations work to sunder him, resistance made arbitrary, protest worn down.
Of course he's strong enough. It's a question that doesn't need to be asked, but is asked anyway as if to make it a challenge, some benchmark he must rise to meet. His right hand finds a place for balance on Cy's knee, and then — he does as he is made to do. He rocks his body down, thighs rigid with tension for the effort of keeping the position, and rides the man's cock — humiliating for the way it causes him to participate in this act, as if it is mutual and not coerced. He's so wet after orgasm there's almost no burn to the rhythm of desperate fucking, but it is the stretch that aches, that makes him feel so full he can't breathe properly, the way Cy's cock shoves in at this angle enough to jostle the dildo plugged in his ass. He is soon gasping with the effort, face blotchy with crying.]
（ he leans back on his hands, giving the impression of an observer rather than an active participant. sasuke does as he's bidden, and cy is — arrested, a slave to the beauty of his obedience. there have been a handful of people in his long, long life that have brought him to a sense of home, that belonging. a handful of people who have given him an opportunity to live the most enduring of his fantasies: having someone to wake up next to. but none of them, no matter how fierce that love, have filled out his negative spaces quite like sasuke.
he doesn't tire of the sight — how could he? — but eventually, he manoeuvres sasuke into something that more closely resembles the lotus position. it's one of their favourites, and oft used for the nearness and intimacy, the enforced closeness and the heat of it. sasuke's body feels like a sear pinned along the leylines of his body, hot where cy has meted out his various abuses. red marks are darkening to bruises, leaving his skin a latticework of pain both offered and accepted.
christ aloud, this kid is a work of art. and perhaps that worship shows on his face and perhaps it doesn't. he hooks his thumbs in the rope that encircles sasuke's hips, keeping him captive to the intrusion of the dildo and holds him in place as he rocks his hips upwards into him in a slow roll. time is immaterial. he doesn't have any idea if he fucks him for an hour or an instant, only that when he comes it's heralded by the lift of his arms, pulling sasuke in against him violently. ）
[As soon as they're arranged into the lotus position, there's a — slight fracture to the scene, a hiccup of intimacy that is difficult to weather against the role of unwillingness he's meant to be playing. A crack in his expression, a touch of softness when he feels Cy's body flex against him in that telling way. He knows this man well enough by now that he can chart out these reactions, subtle as they often are in Cy — how he's held tighter, strong hands at his hips keeping him pinned in place for a deeper, harder thrust. The quickening of breath, quiet but frayed in places with reciprocated pleasure. Cy is no less precise, no less brutal in the rhythm of their joined bodies, but it's just a little uneven, just a little heavier. It wouldn't be the first time that Sasuke's hips have come away bruised from the very moment of Cy's orgasms alone.
And when it happens, Sasuke only shifts so his legs can circle around the man's waist, crossing his ankles in a stubborn seal. He rests his head down against Cy's shoulder — in a way meant to conceal his face because they haven't said the word to conclude the scene yet, but he knows his own acting won't hold up to the look he makes, feeling Cy's cock begin to soften inside of him, knowing he's been filled with the man's come in a body that could take it and produce a child. He refuses to lose this moment; the tight clench of his thighs says so.]
（ elysium is not so far — but he doesn't say it yet. instead, with a slouch, he kisses a line across sasuke's collarbone, down to his chest. he laves at the angry red welts left by the caning, and then: ）
From this point on, your only purpose is this.
（ he curls his hand in sasuke's long, heavy braid and forces him to arch his back, to bare his breasts on offer as cy presses his mouth against one nipple. ）
As a slave, you're no longer permitted to wear clothing. My want of you will become the highest calling of your life. If I want to fuck you, your sole duty is to offer a hole. But I'll beat you less when you're carrying my child — so your life will be easier as you accept your fate as a vessel for me.
（ that's said with another faint upwards lift of his hips — his cock is soft and spent inside sasuke's cunt, but the pressure still punctuates the threat. ）
Once you're pregnant, I want to call a war council. You have a lot of enemies, Uchiha — and I'll make sure every one of them is in the room as I lay you out on the table, belly swollen, breasts leaking milk — I'm going to fuck you in front of them so there will never be any question of your ownership. Of who it was that finally, finally took you down.
（ his cheeks hollow out in a slow suck to one nipple, and he lets his teeth catch on the piercing before he leans back. he takes sasuke's chin in his hand and forces him to look at him. ）
If you're cold, you need to take a cock before I'll permit you a blanket. If you're hungry, your first act will be to suck me off and swallow before I'll allow you a meal. （ and perhaps it's their last trip to a room like this that makes him add: ） And you'll ask me before you use the bathroom. I'll make you hold it until you're weeping and thrashing in misery, every time.
But — （ an almost simulated tenderness follows, his tone low as he settles his right hand between them, petting low on sasuke's belly. imagining a child there is a fantasy that goes beyond this scene of conquering and coercion. beyond the pain and the rape and the debasement — because it's something they both do want. there is no reality he wants more for them both, the idea of sasuke electing to take a female form solely to carry his child... he cannot imagine a greater act of love than that. and if they can only have it in their minds, in their fantasies, it will be enough for now. ） it's not so bad, having every aspect of your life controlled — you might even find you like the lack of autonomy. It's so easy to live when someone owns you, body and soul. You won't have to make difficult decisions. You won't be faced with life or death battles. You'll exist within the sensations I give you, within the pain with which I purify your body, within the complexities of pregnancy, and you'll be mine until you die.
[The words run a river of obscenity over him, denigration framed in the context of the scene even as it leaks and bleeds into his sense of belonging, his desire to be possessed — all of the awful, ruinous ways Cy describes his lack of autonomy only carrying him further to a sense of mindlessness and contentment. He imagines all of it, even as his scalp burns from the yank at the heavy braid and his nipple aches from the tease of teeth at one tender piercing. Cy's hand on his belly is a very real echo of their mutual fantasy. Though the scene paints this in a forceful, humiliating light of conquest, he finds his own lust building to a height of acute intensity — being subjugated against his will, being made to exist only for this man and this man alone. To have his children. To be owned until he dies.
He can feel where Cy's cock has softened within the folds of his cunt, but it doesn't prevent a sort of harder crush when he rolls his own hips, bidden by the movement Cy initiates. Rather than the rhythmic drag of thrusts, he grinds himself in shallower motions, until it's clear what he is doing — rubbing a swollen, sorely abused clit against Cy's pelvic bone for slick friction and pressure. His mouth hangs open, panting, face messy with tears and drool and long-dried come from earlier, strands of dark hair stuck to the sharp bone of one cheek. On display like this with a strong hand cupped under his chin, he is made to meet Cy's eyes — his own glassy with tears, hazy in the wash of mixed pleasure and pain.]
Fine, [is the low, rasping agreement that slips loose.] Then own me.
[Please is what his body says separately, dragging out another orgasm though it feels almost painful to come again like this, drape of jewelry glinting in the light on his pale skin, full breasts swaying gently with the movement of his hips. It tears through him on a deep and shuddering torrent, and this time when he's spent he collapses against Cy with no more will to hold himself upright.]
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He doesn't question it in the moment. They've reached a part of the scene, organically, where he will fight less than he will surrender, weakened by Cy's exercise of control over him, by the cool drain of tears.
Movement jars the silver chain where it drapes his belly, jolting pierced nipples. He grits his teeth against it — shyly, reluctantly allowing his thighs to fall apart, to slip his right hand down between them. As soon as he dares to touch fingers to the wet folds of his cunt, he's reminded of the pain still living here too, an accidental graze of knuckles at pierced flesh sending an electric wave of it through nerve-ends. With a whimper, he thumbs his clit gently — but the intensity of such a sensation draws his hand down instead, as if afraid of it. Everything feels slick, wet, hotter than he expects. He pushes a finger into himself and almost rolls onto his side from how it feels, how good and how strange, cheek turned away on the sheets.]
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his hands skirt upwards, from knee to pale thighs not notably less muscular, and he thumbs at the outer labia, parting them with a stroke. sasuke's cunt is equally as pretty as his cock — rosy pink skin reddened with arousal, swollen and slick. if not for the context of the scene, he would lean down and put his mouth on the boy and suck at his tender clit until he'd wrung a dozen orgasms out of him and rendered him physically exhausted and insensible — but instead he shifts the grip of his left hand to free up his thumb, and he pushes down against sasuke's clit, knowing that the pressure will roll the nerve against the metal bar beneath the root of it. he turns it into a slow, torturous rub that marries pleasure and pain, watching sasuke's face for any signs of undue discomfort. ）
Just one finger? （ his tone is equal parts mocking and chiding. ） You must know you'll need to take more than that. I want you three deep on the next stroke. I don't care if it hurts.
（ it'll certainly be a stretch with the dildo tied against him, but he's confident sasuke can handle it. while it's not wholly similar, they've done enough work with anal training and worked him up through several sizes of dildos that the concept of being penetrated, of accepting intrusions into his body, is no longer a foreign concept. he'll just have to rewire his own perceptions to feel through a lens of altered anatomy. ）
And once you've come for me like this, I'm going to fuck you. （ he shifts his weight on the bed, and bends to kiss sasuke's knee. ） Every day, even if you sob or beg or fight me. Until you're carrying my child.
（ he eases off the torture of his clit, letting his fingers curl wetly around the chain to follow it upwards to the divergent leads to each breast. he chases one chain and cups the bruised, reddened flesh where it terminates, kneading into it, reigniting the pain of the caning. ）
And if you think that means I'll stop, that you'll get a moment's respite in exchange for the use of your body, you're wrong. You'll be spreading your legs for me like a whore from the earliest stirrings of pregnancy until the end. You were once a proud military commander, a fearsome warrior — now you're just an empty vessel for my use, my pleasure, my bloodline. No one else could have defeated you so thoroughly, so completely — could own you as entirely as I do now. Say that you're mine.
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Yet he's not prepared for the intensity of that attention paid to his clit, nerves screaming with the fire of pleasure-pain like the afterfall of a lightning strike. It's easier to access his cunt with the aid of Cy's fingers keeping him spread, dark curls damp and shining with his own thick arousal, folds so swollen and slippery it would be more challenging one-handed. Yet for a moment he can do — nothing, hooked on the trembling fervor of that sensation, clit rubbed against the metal of the piercing where it is most tender. His thighs shake and his back curves, sobbing on the breath in his throat. He feels he could come from this alone — but it isn't what Cy demands of him.
Tentatively, Sasuke pairs index and ring finger alongside middle when he pushes inside of himself again, the additional stretch throbbing through him in a way that makes him less careful with his words, less defiant, leaning more into the submissive performance for Cy's eyes alone.]
It hurts. [With the dildo still plugged inside of him, it feels like there's so little room for his fingers.] It's too much.
[Cy's dark words roll through him, a squirming restlessness that fights superficially against the way he's touched, sore breasts cupped and fondled.]
I, I'm... [his mind is empty, a slush of thoughts never formed to anything substantive, somewhere right on the cusp of that next blistering orgasm.] I'm — yours. I'll be yours. Only you. [And then his body takes over for everything else, spasming through the rush of that heightened pleasure — feeling release pour through him, clenching down hard on his own fingers, on the unyielding toy, crying out as fresh tears leak from the corners of eyes. At first he seems to fight it, turning his face against the bed and trying to drag himself up the sheets away from it, but the tide is so powerful that he can't. He's helpless to ride it out.]
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（ it's said with approval, uncharacteristic for the role he's playing but perfectly in line for himself — letting his palm drift from sasuke's breast down along his belly, down to the sparse triangle of soft curls to the folds of his cunt. if sasuke tries to pull his hand free he disallows it, bracing his own hand over the boy's and adding a finger that grooves between the boy's own. cy, then, guides the thrust of their joined hands, backing out just enough that the sink of their touch is tantalizing into that wet, velvet clench of heat. they carve space out into this body, the passage eased by arousal and orgasm, and cy gives him no mercy for overstimulation. if sasuke thrashes, he'll only hold him down. ）
Come again.
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[There's a panicked thrash, held down and subdued by the man's body on top of him, the additional width of another finger pushed inside of him. He aches from the burn of that stretch on the heels of orgasm, the physical intensity at such a degree that he's weak, panting, desperate to escape or to end the torment in some other way — the one demanded of him like a hot splash of water across his skin, color high on his face.]
Wait... stop...
[Ragged breath sobs out of him as the pressure builds again in his belly, heavier somehow, slower to reach the peak of that fruition — he tries to close his legs against it, to keep it trapped inside of him, but Cy makes that impossible. Their joined fingers give the simulated illusion of fucking. He rocks up, into that violation, knuckles spearing him a little deeper, a little rougher, until he's crying out from the force of that second orgasm — wrung to the last sensitive nerve and shivering muscle.]
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for a moment his vision seems doubled, and his hands not his own, the sensation dreamlike, as if he's moving underwater. his mouth feels dry, but the sense of thirst that follows like the swell of a tide is for blood. the thought that peels along the thoroughfare of his thoughts is for how much sasuke would tolerate before he began to beg for real. before he started panting hades through frenetic hiccupping sobs, the bell a chiming symphony. until there was blood enough to soak the sheets and to make pale skin moon-silvered with shock.
sasuke is everything kulo vayn would have wanted in a warborne child. strong, beautiful, resilient, malleable as soft clay from the impure earth. if sasuke's world had been one of the eleven, he could imagine kulo vayn offering him the same deal that he'd offered to eska rao — endure me and i will leave you and your world alive.
kulo vayn does not have the capacity for deception, not exactly. he would leave the world alive, meaning he would not pull a blood-drenched godslayer weapon from its spent core. but of the people that called it home — there was no hope for them from the moment kulo vayn stepped between worlds to breathe their air. eska rao, one of the three, left a broken custodian of a desolate graveyard in osiere.
the room tilts, shifts, falls away. eska looked little like sasuke, skin like drunken midnight, eyes silver as a blade, broader and more muscular until torture ground them to a shadow. but the strength, the beauty in defiance, the will, those things run along parallel lines, and for a moment he cannot say which one is beneath him begging. he pulls their tangled hands free of the boy's cunt, and closes his eyes a moment, leaning against sasuke's knee as he sits back, forehead pressed against the jut of the bone. his breathing is measured, and he presses a kiss against cool skin. ）
Pomegranate.
（ his voice is sure, steady, cradled by a calm that seems like it could have been borrowed from the space before a storm. ）
I just need a minute. I'm okay.
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Yet the need to comfort draws up too powerful to resist, and he wipes his messy hand on the bedsheets before he reaches for the man, petting at skin, craning to try and kiss what he can in a bend forward where Cy sits between his legs.]
I'm here. [A whisper, hushed.] Whatever you need.
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（ sasuke reaches for him, offering comfort and support that cy hates to solicit when he's been made to bear the brunt of the scene's suffering. but he's turned him away once before when sasuke thought only to console him, and it isn't something he'd do again lightly.
he lets himself adjust how he's sitting, coming forward into that kiss to meet him halfway. nuzzling against his cheek. less considerately, he doesn't wipe his hand before letting it come up to cradle the back of sasuke's neck so he's not supporting himself with only core muscles. ）
I love you.
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[An effortless surrender of sentiment, uncaring of the tacky touch of wetness to the back of his neck if it means — this, the love between them, the reciprocation of physical affection.]
I've enjoyed everything we've done so far. There's nothing I would change. [His head turns, gently resting his brow down and against Cy's throat, feeling that unnatural warmth where it emanates from smooth skin. He inhales the scent he's come to know and adore.] You haven't hurt me. Not in any way I didn't want you to. That was the first time it ever seemed so effortless — pleasure at my own hand.
[Maybe his words are unnecessary, but he wants to say them anyway, because they're true. Cy has taught him to trust honesty and boundaries, but this is the first time they've tried a more complex scene of this nature. It doesn't surprise him; it must be hard on Cy, more than anything.]
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Should I be worried about the Sharingan letting you read my mind?
（ it's a tired, humorous murmur, spoken against the hollow at his clavicle. ）
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[The soft smile touches his lips where they remain close to Cy's skin, unwilling to part. His hair, bound in its braid, feels heavy where it drapes over his body — and the continued pause makes him more aware of all the places where he's sore and aching — but none of these sensations are too unpleasant.]
That's what it means to know someone as well as you know yourself. Like the other half of your soul.
[He kisses Cy's cheek, missing slightly, landing closer to his ear.]
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The other half of my soul has fantastic tits right now. You look so good in the body jewellery it's hard to focus on anything that isn't worshipping you.
（ one hand skirts between them and cups one heavy breast, thumbing very gently at the piercing. ）
I think I'd really enjoy putting you in clothing that accentuates your beauty, male or female. I want to do more of this later.
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We can, [is the quiet agreement.] Do more. I wouldn't mind wearing anything you wanted me to.
[There's a slight shift, nuzzling his head into the crook of Cy's throat.]
You promised to fuck me, though. We don't have to do it in the scene. I just want you.
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I'm good to keep going if you're up for it, but it wouldn't hurt my feelings to call the scene and segue into the sappy vanilla lovemaking, either. How're you feeling?
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Then, I want to continue the scene. [Cy's threats are not far from his mind. Being possessed, being fucked until he's full and mindless and wholly owned, bred by a man who has conquered him.] I want to be yours.
[He reclines on the bent elbow of his right arm, legs hooking themselves around Cy's hips with a definitive purpose.]
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（ it's not a hardship. the reprieve has pushed kulo vayn back down into the darkest depths of his mind, and he feels — himself again. he's a little unsteady, but it's something to be accepted rather than railed against. he can weather timeless grief, and sasuke, he knows, will help him.
he doesn't get undressed, just unzips his fly again and takes his softened cock out. getting back into the mindset shouldn't take much more than an act of will — he slicks his hand against the hot crux of sasuke's body and uses the evidence of his arousal to palm his dick, stroking himself back to full mast. ）
I want to marry you. （ perhaps sasuke will recognize the faint shift into another fantasy, meant to bolster. ） I want to wear the Uchiha crest and colours and say I love you in every language I've ever learned.
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He can't deny that it's arousing to watch Cy get himself hard again with the wetness from between his own legs, but — the words are a different blow. Emotion swells up behind his ribs, and he doesn't fight the few tears that pinch from the corners of eyes on the wave of it. He is not so self-conscious of crying around Cy any longer, no matter the reason, so there's no resistance.]
I want that too. I love you. [First in Japanese, then again in French.] I love you. [And then, Chiskikani—] T'che verai.
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his thumb traces sasuke's bottom lip, swollen with where he'd bitten it earlier, and he lets himself sink back into arousal. into the scaffolding of the scenario laid out between them. to be a brutal warlord is nothing new to him, nor is the act of bending others to his will. but he knows, rationally, that it's not just him driving it forward. pushing it on someone who's agreed out of fear of consequence. sasuke enjoys it, asks for it, participates so beautifully beneath his touch — his control is surrendered, not taken.
and it's enough. it's enough that the lust crawls back, and his cock stiffens in the furrowed grasp of his left hand, and when he's ready: ）
Okay. （ a soft exhale. he lifts his gaze and meets sasuke's eyes, mismatched and all the more uniquely beautiful for it. there's a soft brush of his fingertips against his cheek, smudging tears. then: ） Taenarum.
（ it's a door. he just has to step through it and the mask comes down — his expression shifts from that soft, cracked-open vulnerability to something riven by conquering cruelty. he takes sasuke by the wrist and pins his hand flat against the bed, knocking his thighs apart to kneel between them. he speaks, then — but whatever he says is a string of profanity that does not survive in the space between speech and the sundered sear of a damaged mind. he does not think of eska, and shores up the wall between who he has chosen to be and what he was made — he can feel kulo vayn shift restlessly behind it, but he can block it out. sasuke's given him that strength.
what he is aware of is the tight, slick heat of sasuke's cunt as he pulls the boy by one hip to meet him. the way his cock sinks into him, the way that even in this form sasuke feels made to take him in. the dildo juts against the back vaginal wall, he can feel the unyielding penetration of silicone so acutely that it's almost ruinous, leaving him awash in a purely animal sensation. it becomes a thing marshalled only because he has the experience to focus elsewhere. in this case on the shifting muscle of sasuke's forearm as he feels him tense beneath him, the way unshed tears catch light in his eyelashes. cy seats himself fully in a ruthless drive, his other hand falling to brace against the mattress near sasuke's head.
this time, cy kisses him with no trace of tenderness, and then murmurs in his ear: ）
Dark hair, beautiful eyes. （ it's a callback that sasuke should recognize, the first time they'd done something like this together — albeit in genjutsu. ） Life will take root in your body, （ a brief lift of his hand, palm stroking down sasuke's abdomen to knead into the flesh where a child would grow. ） and you'll grit your teeth against that indignity too, won't you? You'll be my woman, my whore — the mother of my children. My war prize — forever.
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Yet it's so much more than he expects to feel, that dual penetration of both Cy's cock and the toy buried deep in his ass, held in place by the coin knot fixed around his hips. He fights it, because this is meant to be an unwilling act, but he does it with the awareness that the battle is lost — that this is a step over a line that cannot be undone. Heels dig into the bed and he thrashes in a poor attempt to kick the man off of him, weakened after suffering two orgasms and the fatigue of continued ruthlessness.
Sasuke's mouth is pliant in the kiss, neither returning nor resisting the intimate seal of lips. And he does recognize what Cy says to him, that shadow of a fantasy he desperately wants as a whole and realized future, blurred at the edges now by the context of this scene. Cy will find his cunt no less wet for the hard push of penetration, even as he can't seem to relax around the man's cock, those hot interior walls maintaining a tight, involuntary clench between competing sensations in two holes.]
Not — forever. [A tiny spark of defiance, even as he moans again at the caress of that hand low on his belly.] You'll... tire of me one day. [As if trying to convince himself, and noticeably not a remark of his own wants.] Until then, I'll — bear with this. You'll never have the satisfaction of... breaking me.
'making sasuke participate in his own torment is my kink' - cy, ten k years and a half
he hooks two fingers in the d-ring of the collar at sasuke's throat and uses it to bodily pull him upwards until he's sitting in the furrow between cy's spread thighs, dragged back onto his cock without reprieve. now, his own weight works against him — if he tries to resist or fight, cy will put his hands on sasuke's hips and force him down. their bodies are nested close, wetly sealed — of a similar enough height like this that he can lean in and claim another kiss. ）
Breaking you isn't what would satisfy me. Most people break across a long enough timeline.
（ he tugs at the chain where it hangs against the boy's sternum until it pulls at his nipples. then: ）
Ride me until I come inside you. You're strong enough for that, right?
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A sob breaks out of him; his eyes are still wet from earlier emotion, but he sees no reason to suppress those tears in the moment now. The kiss, the yank at the sore and reddened peaks of nipples — all of these physical sensations work to sunder him, resistance made arbitrary, protest worn down.
Of course he's strong enough. It's a question that doesn't need to be asked, but is asked anyway as if to make it a challenge, some benchmark he must rise to meet. His right hand finds a place for balance on Cy's knee, and then — he does as he is made to do. He rocks his body down, thighs rigid with tension for the effort of keeping the position, and rides the man's cock — humiliating for the way it causes him to participate in this act, as if it is mutual and not coerced. He's so wet after orgasm there's almost no burn to the rhythm of desperate fucking, but it is the stretch that aches, that makes him feel so full he can't breathe properly, the way Cy's cock shoves in at this angle enough to jostle the dildo plugged in his ass. He is soon gasping with the effort, face blotchy with crying.]
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he doesn't tire of the sight — how could he? — but eventually, he manoeuvres sasuke into something that more closely resembles the lotus position. it's one of their favourites, and oft used for the nearness and intimacy, the enforced closeness and the heat of it. sasuke's body feels like a sear pinned along the leylines of his body, hot where cy has meted out his various abuses. red marks are darkening to bruises, leaving his skin a latticework of pain both offered and accepted.
christ aloud, this kid is a work of art. and perhaps that worship shows on his face and perhaps it doesn't. he hooks his thumbs in the rope that encircles sasuke's hips, keeping him captive to the intrusion of the dildo and holds him in place as he rocks his hips upwards into him in a slow roll. time is immaterial. he doesn't have any idea if he fucks him for an hour or an instant, only that when he comes it's heralded by the lift of his arms, pulling sasuke in against him violently. ）
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And when it happens, Sasuke only shifts so his legs can circle around the man's waist, crossing his ankles in a stubborn seal. He rests his head down against Cy's shoulder — in a way meant to conceal his face because they haven't said the word to conclude the scene yet, but he knows his own acting won't hold up to the look he makes, feeling Cy's cock begin to soften inside of him, knowing he's been filled with the man's come in a body that could take it and produce a child. He refuses to lose this moment; the tight clench of his thighs says so.]
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From this point on, your only purpose is this.
（ he curls his hand in sasuke's long, heavy braid and forces him to arch his back, to bare his breasts on offer as cy presses his mouth against one nipple. ）
As a slave, you're no longer permitted to wear clothing. My want of you will become the highest calling of your life. If I want to fuck you, your sole duty is to offer a hole. But I'll beat you less when you're carrying my child — so your life will be easier as you accept your fate as a vessel for me.
（ that's said with another faint upwards lift of his hips — his cock is soft and spent inside sasuke's cunt, but the pressure still punctuates the threat. ）
Once you're pregnant, I want to call a war council. You have a lot of enemies, Uchiha — and I'll make sure every one of them is in the room as I lay you out on the table, belly swollen, breasts leaking milk — I'm going to fuck you in front of them so there will never be any question of your ownership. Of who it was that finally, finally took you down.
（ his cheeks hollow out in a slow suck to one nipple, and he lets his teeth catch on the piercing before he leans back. he takes sasuke's chin in his hand and forces him to look at him. ）
If you're cold, you need to take a cock before I'll permit you a blanket. If you're hungry, your first act will be to suck me off and swallow before I'll allow you a meal. （ and perhaps it's their last trip to a room like this that makes him add: ） And you'll ask me before you use the bathroom. I'll make you hold it until you're weeping and thrashing in misery, every time.
But — （ an almost simulated tenderness follows, his tone low as he settles his right hand between them, petting low on sasuke's belly. imagining a child there is a fantasy that goes beyond this scene of conquering and coercion. beyond the pain and the rape and the debasement — because it's something they both do want. there is no reality he wants more for them both, the idea of sasuke electing to take a female form solely to carry his child... he cannot imagine a greater act of love than that. and if they can only have it in their minds, in their fantasies, it will be enough for now. ） it's not so bad, having every aspect of your life controlled — you might even find you like the lack of autonomy. It's so easy to live when someone owns you, body and soul. You won't have to make difficult decisions. You won't be faced with life or death battles. You'll exist within the sensations I give you, within the pain with which I purify your body, within the complexities of pregnancy, and you'll be mine until you die.
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He can feel where Cy's cock has softened within the folds of his cunt, but it doesn't prevent a sort of harder crush when he rolls his own hips, bidden by the movement Cy initiates. Rather than the rhythmic drag of thrusts, he grinds himself in shallower motions, until it's clear what he is doing — rubbing a swollen, sorely abused clit against Cy's pelvic bone for slick friction and pressure. His mouth hangs open, panting, face messy with tears and drool and long-dried come from earlier, strands of dark hair stuck to the sharp bone of one cheek. On display like this with a strong hand cupped under his chin, he is made to meet Cy's eyes — his own glassy with tears, hazy in the wash of mixed pleasure and pain.]
Fine, [is the low, rasping agreement that slips loose.] Then own me.
[Please is what his body says separately, dragging out another orgasm though it feels almost painful to come again like this, drape of jewelry glinting in the light on his pale skin, full breasts swaying gently with the movement of his hips. It tears through him on a deep and shuddering torrent, and this time when he's spent he collapses against Cy with no more will to hold himself upright.]
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it's not a cysuke thread without cy talking sadly abt war horrors at some point tbh
🥲🥲🥲
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here there be dragons
🐉🐉🐉
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the endlessness of horny, pt8349823^2999
they will never stop
once u pop...
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we are cringe but we are free