（ god, but there's a part of him that loves that little flicker of rebellion. perhaps it harkens back to the first few times they were together, the way sasuke was so primed to grit his teeth against pleasure, how often cy had to keep drawing his legs apart against a spasm of self-denial. the echo of that here is nostalgic, and it makes him instantly, impossibly hard.
cy laps at that sweet spot at the crux of his thighs, tasting the nectar of arousal heady and thick on his tongue. the slip of two fingers turns to three, hand twisting. there's a tightness to his body that speaks to resistance, to sasuke's own pleasure in simulated refusal. ）
You'll spend the next three on my cock to make up for it.
（ there's a pat to his thigh — as if that's meant to be some comforting reward, and not a threat. ）
[The width of three fingers is a burn, feeling the way his body clenches around that intrusion until it throbs in his blood — and while he ultimately controls the threshold of pain, he is also the sort of person innately tempered to test his own boundaries. Not too much. Not to a degree that would harm himself, or draw Cy's concern toward him, but enough to feel the glass-edged fragility of his own composure start to shiver as his cunt is stretched wide.
Three weeks on Cy's cock is a promise sure to leave him wrung-out, ruined, pleading for mercy. Perhaps it has happened before. Perhaps he's been fucked across tireless days by this man, just to satiate that appetite.]
Don't be too rough.
[A quiet murmur, and maybe Cy will figure it out — that he's asking less for himself than the life that he carries.
Hands slip up to the sheer fabric draped around his shoulders, and before he's even shed the covering, that answer is clear — there are damp spots left on silk where he's leaked, nipples pebbled with pale milk once he disrobes.]
（ there's a spark of acted anger, there — at being directed, denied. but it's smoothed over almost immediately, and he does gentle his touch somewhat, petting at those hot interior walls even as he doesn't abate the stretch of his fingers making a home in him. one more deep thrust, and then the press of his thumb against the boy's clit, over the position of that capricious piercing, rolling the nerve against trapped metal. he knows this body well — it's one he created, one he conquered. he can get sasuke off with a word, or a whisper. ）
You've only assured your safety for another few months. Be careful what you ask me.
（ is the warning that follows, cy leaning up to press a meaningful kiss and a catlike rub of one cheek to the swell of his belly before he settles back on his knees. he's so fucking hard — no illusion necessary — he can feel precome dampening the fabric of his pants. not simply spreading sasuke's legs and fucking him is becoming increasingly a challenge the longer they inhabit the fantasy. that cy captured this man, beat and abused him and ultimately forced him into a woman's body to bear life unwillingly, all of those things speak to and satisfy that darkest part of him. but for each scar kulo vayn left on his psyche, for each deep desire — he's taken it, changed something of it, made it his own. kulo vayn didn't care about creating life, he only wished to take it — if pregnancy resulted from an assault, it was incidental to the act and it would not spare the one now sundered. kulo vayn liked to hurt people, liked to see genuine pain and fear and hopeless despair on their faces as he tortured them, as he held them down. cy might have come to enjoy the act of inflicting pain, but he rarely looks at someone's face as he does it, letting his gaze drift elsewhere. and the pain itself is structured, controlled, and most importantly — it ends.
but this fantasy lets him walk a finer line, beneath the shelter of sasuke's submission, his strength, and his own deepest needs that had been so long unmet before they had a chance encounter in a locker room, before cy put hands on him and moulded him like soft clay into what he's now become. someone who's taken back the power of their body, who's become confident and secure in knowing what he likes and in asking for it unashamedly.
for a moment, he's struck by the depths of feeling he experiences then. the love, the pride, the gratitude, and there's a gleam of tears at the corners of his eyes that he wipes away with a quick duck against sasuke's thigh, though he can't quite help how soft his expression is on sasuke when he lifts his head again. his voice, at least, is unchanged — that cruel, imperial tone coming so naturally to him even after ten millennia. ）
Milk yourself, taste it — and then come. I've got a surprise gift planned for you — and it will be easier on you to accept it if you've relaxed for me.
（ sasuke knows he won't be given a reprieve. he won't be permitted to refuse. it is not only the life in his belly he must advocate for, but the men that cy has spared but keeps captive, beholden to his compliance, his acceptance of this role he must play. ）
[That threat scorches through him, anticipation set toward a future that has yet to come — danger temporarily abated by the life he has begun to foster in his belly for this man. Cy's cheek rubs the swell where their child is growing, stubble a soft raspy scrape over tight skin, and Sasuke can't help but squirm a little outside the boundaries of this scene. The want in him is deep, and fierce, not at all insincere — but at least he can play it off as a kind of discomfort brought by the reminder of his subservient position.
He is a vessel, one that belongs to this man alone. His own agency does not matter. His autonomy no longer exists, all that he is placed into Cy's hands under the illusion of force such that he needs no concern for shame. His mind is empty, pleasure lighting up nerves close to pain, suffering that isn't a stranger to his experience but at least here, now, it takes meaning, and Cy cherishes him for it.
Through the cruel discipline of this role he's playing, Sasuke knows obedience is required; he has been trained for this. That rough thumb slides across his clit, dragging at the embedded metal of the piercing, a jolt of sensitivity through his lower body that has those interior walls clenching hard over Cy's knuckles. Without protest his right hand cups beneath the heavy weight of his breast, pale flesh overflowing in his palm, and squeezes — a whimper high in his throat for the throb of soreness it evokes. Milk drips, pearly-white, at the application of pressure, and his fingertips swipe it up to bring to his lips for his tongue to clean off.
He chases an orgasm — even if he doesn't need to, half-driven to that brink of release by the order alone. It's so much easier when he does not have to think. It pours out of him effortlessly, because Cy has told him to do it and the man holds dominion over his whole body, cunt spasming around those fingers, legs trembling in an effort not to move until the flow ebbs. He's panting, flush high in his cheeks, overwrought on the come down.]
There you go. Good girl. Obedience is always such a good look on you.
（ he pats his hand just above the sparse, dark curls that frame his pretty cunt, and then he stands up. the rest of sasuke's body is given a perfunctory inspection the way one might check a horse for soundness — dispassionate, detached. caring more for function than form. but there is a moment of affection, perhaps, when he takes sasuke's wrist in his hand and lifts it, pressing a fleeting kiss against his palm.
when he's satisfied, he takes the opportunity to drop his hand against the neglected breast, fingers tightening until it too produces a messy leak of milk. there's a thoughtful hm, and then: ）
Go take a bath. Clean yourself, take the plug out. Your present should be ready when you return. Don't expect to sleep tonight — but you have my word I won't do anything that might harm our child.
（ and then, just — briefly outside the scene, he taps his other hand against his temple, clear sign to sasuke that he can take the image of the machine from his mind. he's envisioning the machine in two parts: the stockade, made from a metal scaffolding that forces someone bent at the waist and restrained, their hands cuffed, a fixed collar around their throat. there are small comforts offered: a padded bar beneath the breasts and again at the pelvis to support his pregnant belly, and at least the ergonomics of the forced position is only uncomfortable and not cruelly torturous.
the machine is an intricate design, predicated on a flywheel design — one dildo meant to, when activated, thrust forward into a bodily orifice. but the other is a little different, a hydraulic compressor that can be hooked into a second dildo for a second hole. sasuke should be able to deduce that one is intended for thrusting, but there's a brief moment of imagining that cy knows he can take directly from his mind: it's intended to be used with a compatible device that can contract and expand based on the pressure differential.
both can be adjusted to accommodate a participant standing or kneeling — he suspects sasuke will prefer to stand simply because it will be the more uncomfortable of the two options. ）
[Good girl. The words fit the context of the scene, but he's also reminded of a moment not so long ago now where Cy had praised him the same way, an unexpected arousal twisting low in his belly as a result. Here it is denigrative in place of earlier's affection, but both have a potent effect — both leave him deliriously warm, possessed, embodying that blurry line between who he is and who he is pretending to be. It feels good to hear.
His hand twitches when his palm is kissed gently, but the words are directive and cold as his sore breast is fondled with that clinical attention. There's only one option, so he climbs to his feet, wavering slightly as he discovers his balance is upset by the additional weight of his midsection. It's strange to be pregnant, he discovers, even within the more comfortably controlled environment of a genjutsu — but he's thinking less of that and more of what Cy has in store for him as he obeys, walking to the adjacent chamber where he finds a bath full of warm water, waiting, skipping the monotony of preparation.
Cy's subtle cue wasn't missed. While he bathes, perfunctory in the scrub of soap that leaves pale skin gleaming pink, Cy will have what he wants, drawn from the creative ingenuity of the man's mind. So that when Sasuke dries off and walks out — naked, because these are the rules enforced on him, black hair like wet ink over slim shoulders — he discovers what Cy has crafted for him.
There is a moment where he — stares, more out of curiosity than anything else, although he won't deny there is some intimidation to approaching a machine like this. For the scene, he plays it like reluctance, lingering back.]
... I see. So, you've decided to torture me after all. Is this your "gift"?
（ he's at sasuke's side in a glimmer of the void, sasuke's interpretation of his powers more than the reality of the thing. his hand settles at the small of the boy's back, and directs him forwards. there's a hesitation to his steps that isn't missed, but cy's strength is — inexorable. eventually, sasuke has to step ahead so he isn't shoved. ）
I'm offended you think I need a machine to torture you.
（ hello he is a WARLORD. ）
Step over the bar, bend forwards. Do I need to use the restraints, or are you going to behave and accept your gift graciously?
[That flicker of dark, cold energy leaves him breathless, shepherded toward the machine to keep from tripping on his own feet and being sent to the floor. There is compliance bought by his physical state; he obeys more readily now because of their child, arm folded protectively over the swell of his belly as he goes.
But that doesn't mean he won't struggle when it matters. There is resistance — as much because he enjoys being forced to do this in reality as it is true to the character he plays. In the end, he does not accept graciously, and Cy positions him over the bar before shoving him in that forward bend, body a curve of muscle definition and swell of more feminine traits. The restraints come next, fitted expertly.]
Tired of fucking me yourself? Perhaps your age is getting to you.
[Half for show, half because he wants to feel Cy force him, Sasuke fights the whole way into those locks and buckles.]
（ and cy plays at patient tolerance of it. he works each limb into the restraining devices — right wrist into the cuffs, both ankles affixed to the stockade, spread apart so that no part of him can be concealed with a coquettish twist of his hips or thighs. a sling strap is worked beneath his belly so it's not only his spine and core muscles supporting the posture — one of only a handful of concessions to his comfort.
the collar is last, and he locks it with a satisfying click.
then he takes up sasuke's long, dark hair and works it through a tie loop, hooking it to a bar above him so that his head is restrained by more than just the collar alone, held at a punishing angle that's suggestive of, ah — ）
You've got three holes, haven't you?
（ boy, he's gonna throatfuck you to the ragged edge of consciousness, actually.
once he's finished binding up his hair, he circles sasuke to drag the machine itself into position, petting one hand along the boy's hip. the explanation he unspools is as much so that sasuke can fill in any gaps in the detailing of the genjutsu as it is meant to intimidate the warlord's slave. ）
The one going in your ass is about eighteen inches. It doesn't thrust, so you only need to take it once. It does contract and expand in a sequence I control — so you'll find yourself going from mercilessly to tolerably full at my command. We're going to put this one in first.
（ the dildo itself can be removed from the machine, and he does so to make sure it's well-lubricated. sasuke may have developed a taste for taking things raw and rough, but if the scene is meant to bend them towards a gentler future, certain considerations need to be made. the concession to that preference is that he makes no move to ready him for it, to prepare — sasuke, therefore, can calibrate the level of pain he wants to accept based on his own preferences as cy thumbs the head of the dildo into his ass. he takes his time with it. the machine itself may lack a thrusting mechanism for this one, but he clearly has no desire to just force sasuke to take it to the hilt and move on.
instead, he works it in and then out of him. pushing it in until it meets resistance, and then easing back. there's a faint, disapproving tut as the dildo hitches at some point deep within his body. ）
I see you haven't kept up on your training while I've been away. You haven't used the toys I left you?
[His heart races a little faster as Cy secures him in place with that meticulous care, unable to fully mask the excitement for its novelty even within genjutsu, the full restraint denying all possible movement. It isn't the first time Cy has used bondage on him, but never to a degree like this — once his long hair is fastened above, he can't manage a full turn to look behind him. The anticipation of what waits for him there, in the form of those two penetrative devices, is thrilling. There is a surrendering of control here beyond all they've explored, sheltered in the safe environment of his own domain so no real harm will come beyond what he allows.
It doesn't matter. He would put his body in Cy's hands, regardless of what he might suffer. The trust runs so deep it is second only to the blood that keeps him alive.
That threat, and its obvious conclusion, makes Sasuke swallow hard enough to feel the collar's restrictive leather around his throat. He wants Cy's cock in his mouth so bad that it aches. But — he can't let the illusion of the scene fracture, so he turns a dark-eyed glare onto the man instead. Willful, petulant — a fire that hasn't burned out even if part of him has come to crave this man's ownership and possession of him.
His ass is tolerant to the first slide of the dildo's length, although there's soon a strain, muscles locking up on instinct until self-preservation (and, ultimately, trained experience) has him regulating his breath and forcing a physical relaxation.]
Why would I do that? If you wanted me to obey you, then you should have stayed to ensure it.
[The cuffs around his ankles clatter as he shifts on his feet, a meager adjustment in the bent-over posture he's made to hold. Tugging a little away from the dildo — pushing it an inch back out of his hole.]
I only have to be yours when you're here.
[A purposeful mockery, as if to plant some insinuation of who he might be fucking while Cy is gone on his war campaigns.]
（ there's a suck of his teeth at that little show of resistance, the way sasuke fights the intrusion. as much as he craves this boy's perfect, absolute submission — that prideful defiance, demonstrated in the safety and shelter of the scene, is fucking obscene. ）
Oh, good girl — you know I love it when you fight me. （ the working length of the dildo — less than what he'd threatened — is pushed back in with one hand looping beneath sasuke's pelvis to force him still and steady to take it, until it's fully seated in him. cy strokes his hand against the boy's mons pubis, the jut of his swollen belly soothingly, as if he's trying to settle him into the relaxation and acceptance of the toy. ） You're so beautiful when you struggle, and I love that sharp tongue of yours. The only weapon I've left you with, hm?
（ a gentle little pat to his flank as he straightens up, hooking the dildo up properly to the machine. ）
When I turn it on, you'll feel it thicken inside you. The water's warmed to your body temperature, and it'll be pumped in beneath the silicone sheath of the dildo, slowly filling out until I'm satisfied, but it's going to be hard on your body because it'll be such a weight. It won't hurt, but you'll be desperately uncomfortable. You'll be glad for the restraints then, holding you up.
（ idly, he pushes two fingers into the boy's cunt, coming away messy and slick with arousal — as he circles sasuke deliberately, he undoes his pants and takes his cock in hand, smearing that honeysweet slick against the head of it, which hardly needs the help — precome has already beaded at the head of the glans. he pushes his dick in against the boy's mouth, sliding a thumb between his lips to prise them apart. his goal is a simple one: he wants sasuke to clean the taste of himself up with only his mouth. just a brief torment, before he finishes his work. ）
Next time I leave, I'll see to it you're seated on a cock eight hours a day. And if anyone gets any brave ideas to avail themselves of your other holes... mm. （ he pushes his hips forward, seating himself down sasuke's throat in a cruel push, petting his cheek, stroking the line of his throat until the collar inhibits it. ） I'll have them killed, for touching what's mine.
[He feels that hand slip low, under his belly, forcing him to take the slide of silicone until it's fitted inside of him to that deep extent — clenching his teeth around a sound of discomfort for the unprepared stretch. The plug he was wearing before feels like it did nothing at all, for how full he is now. Those cooing praises don't help, set on the backdrop of a certain cruelty that is an intoxicant in the context of the scene.
Part of Sasuke understands that the running narration of what comes next is partly practical, so that the illusion can shift to accommodate Cy's needs of it — but that second piece, the one that is clearly meant to keep him on the seat of anticipation, cuts his composure like a hot knife. Knowing what will happen beforehand makes him more sensitive to every torment, jolting when fingers abruptly push into his slippery cunt, swallowing another pitiful noise as he sees Cy slick his cock from the corner of his eyes.
Cy's presence, while he's affixed by restraints like this, is indomitable. Overwhelming. The man towers over him, radiating authority in a way that is impossible not to bend beneath. When that thumb pries his mouth open he bares his teeth — but he doesn't bite. Like he's learned. A red tongue cleans off his own slick arousal from the man's cock, leaving it shiny with spit. Then his throat is pushed into — he can't help the higher sound of protest that never makes it past his lips, stuffed down with the intrusion of Cy's dick, a yank at the hooked collar around his neck and tied-up hair taking him nowhere fast.
That possessiveness should not sound so good, but for the role he's playing it is like music, because this is all he is. He belongs to this man. He has been molded by these hands, made into a woman, subjugated to a position where his body is a vessel to give pleasure, accept pain, and produce children. Nothing else.]
（ he stays there until he can feel the involuntary flutter of sasuke's throat work around the crown of his dick, until an absence of oxygen takes him right to the edge of a swoon and then he pulls back — only to wipe his cock against sasuke's cheek to halfly dry it before he tucks himself back in his pants. ）
There you go. Thank you for cleaning up your mess.
（ he cards a hand through sasuke's hair, and then slips back around behind him to tend to the second insertion — this dildo is markedly shorter, but it's thicker — though not beyond what sasuke can comfortably take. he tugs the machine into place and aligns the dildo so it will plunge into him the moment it's turned on, though he rubs it between the pretty folds of his pussy first before nudging it just barely inside him. there's a hard press of his palm against the boy's clit, and then he steps away to admire his work. speculatively — ）
Now, we need to figure out what to do with your tits. I've got a few ideas. I could tie them with weights — （ this is punctuated by him reaching down to squeeze one breast and to close his fingers tight against it, pulling it downward by a pinch to the nipple until the skin is taut and there's a spatter of milk on the floor. ） that will make them sway with every thrust of the machine. I could hit them with a riding crop until they're pretty and bruised for me, until you're crying from the pain.
（ a rougher tightening of his fingers accompanies that one, deliberately pressing bruises and a cruel twist of the breast until he gets some physical sign of pain from sasuke significant enough that he eases off. ）
You remember the humbler, right? How snug it felt against you, how well it kept you on your knees for me, how perfectly it presented your balls for torment? I could do something like that with your tits. Or I could just... （ another squeeze, another yield of milk in a messy spill across his fingertips, which he raises to his own mouth and tastes with an appreciative sound. ） milk you, and take that bountiful yield to feed your men. So they know everything you've sacrificed for their safety.
[Lack of oxygen lingers like a burn in his throat, starry behind his eyelids when Cy draws away — the wipe of the man's cock against his cheek leaves a wet smear, an act so acutely belittling that it throbs in his cunt. Then there's the tease of that other affixed dildo as it's positioned just enough where he can feel the blunt end, but he can't satisfy himself by pushing down on it and taking it inside. Every action is deliberately cruel, intended to hurt or cause an ache of expectation for some future hurt, some pleasure held tantalizingly out of reach.
The man's palm is rough across his clit enough that he cries out, jerking in his bonds, those next words weaving a delirious web over his imagination. Cy fondles him, pinching a nipple made even more tender by the metal piercing hooked into it — his face is hot, sweat beginning to freckle his hairline with the strain of being trussed up. Milk is forced from his breast, dripping to the floor below in an obscene spill — it's painful, but with that sensation is a knife-edge of alleviation, too-full pressure eased by that forceful flow.]
Don't. It hurts when you touch them — stop. [A quiet plea, knowing that this glimmer of fear will be what Cy looks for. Covering his tits in bruises, or milking them, or dragging them down with weights: his fear is a shining beacon that allows tears to dampen his lashes.] I thought I said — to leave my men out of your... perversions. That was our agreement.
[His voice comes thin and strained, struggling where he's held bent at the hips, feeling that the slightest movement might push his pussy down onto the dildo and knowing he is wet enough it would slide right in.]
（ it's said almost sympathetically, as if it's a matter of sasuke simply having a poor memory, and not cy gaming the system. he makes one more cruel grind of his fingers against the boy's breast and then lets go, wiping his hand on his pants before he pats sasuke's flank. ）
Thing is, I don't recall ever agreeing to it.
（ he skirts around behind sasuke again to turn the machine on, just a slow drive of that second dildo into place, inch by tantalizing inch at the lowest possible setting. as it pushes into sasuke's pussy, he levers a hand between his legs and strokes against his clit. ）
There you go, good girl. （ it would sound almost fond, if the situation wasn't — what it is. ） You're so wet — you really missed me, huh, sweetheart?
[He can't even hang his head down at the onslaught of sensation, feeling the dildo ease inside of him to sit snugly within slick interior walls, which clench against his will to hold the shape of silicone in that tight channel. The withdrawal is worse — but the stroke of his clit, sorely tender, drives him to the very edge of orgasm so suddenly that he loses his breath on one full, gasping sob.
Will Cy punish him if he comes now? He can feel the hot, blinding wave right at the boundary of his own self-control, threatening to crash through him.]
S—Stop, I'm cl... close. [There's no way to escape the pleasure of stimulation between his legs, in his cunt, where fingers drag across that sensitive bundle of nerves, but he tries by fighting his restraints.] It's too much.
Didn't I tell you once, you never get to say stop to me?
（ there's another long, slow drag of his fingers from the point of penetration to the piercing at his clit. he grasps the lead that comes off the piercing and gives it a firm, gentle tug. he can tell that sasuke's close, resisting against his own pleasure out of sheer, stubborn will — but he wants to drag him over the ragged edge just the same. ）
I've enjoyed it, you know. Making sure everyone knows what I've done to you. What I've reduced you to. You're serving as a cautionary tale to those that would resist me, and a fantasy to those who want to be like me. （ his left hand is free, and slips his palm over sasuke's stomach, possessive. ） I don't think there's anyone left in the realm who thinks your name synonymous with any word but whore.
[The pleasure wraps itself around the pain — an inextricable weave, braided into the sensation of metal yanking at nerves, tender clit sending a hot wave through him that only ebbs into the sharper, razor-edged electricity of the piercing. The dildo slides inside of him, unyielding, that slow rhythm set by a mechanical pace that does not tire or falter. It feels inhuman, and it won't respond to the way he ineffectively grinds down onto its length.
And those cruel words degrade him further, make him nothing more than a whore pregnant by his enemy's seed. It burns to imagine the rest of the world's perception of him now. Stripped of pride, and power, and kept here like a decorated prize. There's a hitch in his throat, broken on another crack in composure — sobbing for air, eyes closed tight, past the point of formulating words in retaliation.
He comes hard, the orgasm trembling through him, pussy clenching until the size of the toy shoved into it starts to hurt a little; Cy will feel the tremors where that hand strokes over his swollen belly. He's gasping, crying out only to bite his tongue so it isn't so loud, feeling the slick rush of arousal that soon begins to smear his inner thighs.]
（ cy just shushes him through it — not kindly, not gently. it's more as if sasuke's pleasure is so expected, so demanded, that the show of it is perfunctory. it's simply something to be taken, and then set aside as he moves on to the next cruelty.
cy lets his hand drop away from between the boy's slick thighs, coming around in front of him — steps masked by the mechanical thrum of the machinery as that dildo is pushed into his body unceasingly. he one hand is put into sasuke's hair, and the other forces his mouth open — again, to clean his fingers. but it's clearly not the only thing he intends to do with the boy's open mouth, because his next act is to call a spider gag to hand, and once his hand has been satisfactorily cleaned, the gag is slotted into his mouth, holding it open, biting into the edges of his mouth should he try to work the ring free. but rather than his cock — at least for now — he heads to a chest along one wall and returns with a dildo that has similar dimensions, but with one salient difference: it has a hole from base to tip, wide enough and rigid enough that it can be breathed through.
there's no warm-up. no kind words. he simply takes sasuke's head by a rough grip of his hair and pushes the dildo into his mouth until it bottoms out at the back of his throat. he pulls it back and thrusts forward again, in time with the machine, and once sasuke is sufficiently messy with drool, the dildo is shoved in as deeply as he can take it, and then cy works to affix it to the gag, fully seated there. ）
You can breathe through it. Not well or easily, but you can. So long as you stay calm, it won't be a problem. You don't want to lose consciousness — a lack of oxygen could harm our child.
（ which he'd promised he wouldn't do, and meant. but sasuke knows how capricious he can be, and that the possibility of him going back on his word is high. it's not, and he wouldn't — after all, he cares about this life as much as sasuke has come to. but the illusion of fear is sweet enough for him.
he hooks one finger in the gag's restraints, and uses it to force sasuke to look at him. ）
Marshal yourself. I'm not finished making you come yet.
[The lightheaded haze of orgasm has not faded by the time Cy circles around to his head, wet fingers prying into his mouth. A tongue obediently cleans them off once more, because he knows what will happen if he refuses, and then — a pair of mismatched eyes catch sight of the spider gag. Having worn it once before, Sasuke knows what to expect when it is fitted into his mouth, yet his heart kicks a little faster still, calling back to mind Cy's threat of other holes. He feels the metal dig into soft gums behind his teeth, jaw forced into that perfect 'o' as the straps dent his cheeks where it buckles around his head.
And then he sees the dildo. This time he lets the fear flash across his face, unprepared by the abrupt shove of hollow silicone into his throat, protest formed in the guttural sound that leaves him — pulling his head against its restraints even knowing he won't escape the man's brutal, precise actions. It slides in anyway; he feels it hit that tight space at the back of his throat, choking on it until that rhythm allows brief sucks of air and his mouth is pooling with drool.
Stay calm. The look he gives when forced is baleful, glaring — but he does make an effort to breathe by sheer necessity. It's difficult. At first he struggles to get it right, and Cy will hear him gagging around the toy's width, alternately taking oxygen through his nose to keep from blacking out. It's not supposed to be easy. That danger lurks, and he's well-aware that in this state he is vulnerable to everything this man chooses to do to him.
Even if all of that lethality is an elaborate illusion in genjutsu, he finds it intoxicating to pretend. He never thought it could feel so good to hand himself over, but it has unlocked some sense of freedom, subspace an Eden of relief in the foundation of their relationship. That's why his mouth relaxes, and his breathing becomes even, focused, taking the abuse as he has learned to do it.]
（ there's a litany of filth intermingled with praise — how good he looks like this, bound and fucked and owned so completely that there is no question of whose name falls synonymous with god in the small sphere of sasuke's narrowed world. cy slips his thumb over the air hole, keeping eye contact with sasuke as he struggles, and then — relaxes into calm focus. there we go.
then he stoops, kissing his forehead. ）
My perfect little slave. Look at that, three holes all used, just like you deserve. You look good like this for me, owned so completely that no other man would ever dare to put a hand on you.
（ he cups sasuke's cheeks briefly, and then lets him go, turning back to the room itself. a chair is dragged — he could move it with magic, but it's more fun to hear the irascible creak of the heavy furnishings as he drags it across the floor — and then arranged at sasuke's side. then he selects a cruel implement from a rack on the far wall, a slender rod whose purpose can only be one thing, as he sits down beside the boy. a snap of the rod impacts against one breast, and cy gives sasuke a brief, precious moment to sort out his breathing before he continues: ）
See, there's two problems here. One, I was away long enough on campaign that all my bruises faded from your pretty skin. Two, your tits are clearly aching for another kind of attention.
（ he'd promised sasuke a whipping, after all. the rod rubs against one tender nipple, and then there's another sharp tap against it, deceptively hard for how closely the blow falls. ）
So I'll give you a choice. Would you rather be milked or struck? Show me with your hand — one finger for the first option, two for the second.
[There's a physical jolt when Cy covers the air hole, but soon it eases, that kiss set to his head like a crown. It answers a deep need in him to be praised, recognized, and approved of — even with unshed tears gleaming in his eyes, with his mouth stretched wide and a toy in his throat, in his cunt and his ass, face blotchy with color.
The scrape of the chair legs has the intended effect of intimidation. He shivers, waiting in that prone position, unable to fully turn his head and watch where Cy finally settles at his side. The first impact drives a high noise out of his throat — he can't even clench his jaw to smother the sound, so it's loud in his ears, half-choked by silicone. He loses his breath again, a few hitches of effort around the toy before he manages to grasp a tempered rhythm so he won't suffocate. The soft skin of his breast stings, redness blooming where he's been struck by the rod.
And then Cy presents him with that choice. Rather than the act itself, it is a decision between two different punishments — one that will provide pain, and one that will provide relief at the cost of severe, scalding humiliation. It feels more like a trick or an illusion. Won't Cy just do both, in the end?
What if Sasuke wants both? To have his tits bruised, striped with welts, and then to have Cy's hands covering those fresh marks as he's milked, splattering his own feet, pooling on the floor.
There's another sob, overwhelmed by the choice, a tear dripping down his hot cheek. His right hand fights the cuff holding it affixed, and then he shows one hesitant finger.]
the day sasuke says 'tits' outloud his sexism will be cured
（ there's a contemplative hm as he digests that response, and then: ）
See, you picked the humiliating option. That actually surprises me, given the stubborn adhesion you've had to your pride.
（ he leans forward in the chair, one arm braced on his knee as he reaches for one of sasuke's breasts, kneading roughly into the flesh and then squeezing until a glut of milk saturates his hand, splatters on the ground below them. ）
I think I'm going to do both anyway. Shh, shh — don't fight. I'll be gentle, since I think this is actually a big step for you. Accepting your place, your fate — sweetheart, short of bearing my child, that's about the best gift you could give me.
（ his touch is briefly gentled, almost a caress before he pulls away. ）
Just give me one sec, okay? I'm gonna fill out that dildo in your ass first so you've got some competing sensations to help you work through the pain.
（ he stands, pushing the chair back with an ominous shriek of wood on stone, stepping sideways to survey the machine. the dildo working his pussy gets an increase of its speed, the torturous slowness of the thrust increased to a more frantic pace. the other, as promised, gets an increase of its diameter, the hydraulic pump whirring as it fills the tight silicone sleeve with water from the reservoir. the water's warm thanks to genjutsu, so it won't be a shock to the system — but as he'd threatened, it will cause a rich heaviness as it thickens in his body. cy lingers a moment to ensure everything's working as intended, slaps sasuke once on the ass and then returns to his chair to take up the rod. ）
Count off on your hand for me, make a fist for five and start back at the beginning. Twenty to each breast. If you mess up the count, I'll start again. Make sure you control your breathing. Make a fist when you're ready for me to start.
（ of course, if he refuses he'll start anyway, but. #gettingsasuketoparticipateinhisowntormentishiskinktho. ）
[There's another sound muffled by the silicone toy locked in his throat, gasping at the hard squeeze to his breast that punctuates cruelty — he hears more than he sees the milk leaking from a sore nipple, dripping to the floor, messily obscene. He should have known that such a choice was an illusion. It is like Cy himself has peeled the deeper fantasy out of his mind, has read his body and his need beyond the layers of the scene. And if their roles are ever to grow into something else, his desire must be more obvious, well-known to this man's domination of him, his changing loyalty made stark. Humiliation and pain are too intricately tied, and he aches to be given both even as he plays it off as fear.
He hears the chair, picking up his head, vision blurry with tears he stubbornly holds back. The threat earns a useless strain in his restraints, voice choked on protest — there's nowhere to go and his spirited attempts to resist are futile. Yet it feels good to struggle, no matter how stripped of his freedom to communicate.
As promised, the dildo in his ass fills and thickens, a sensation at first strange and warm but soon impossible to endure quietly as it stretches his hole to a dull throb. It stifles his ability to move in what limited space he has — forcing him utterly still to bear the full, heavy girth of that toy as best he can. A whimper responds to it, muscles shivering, the steady tempo of the other dildo in his pussy never ceasing. He feels overwhelmed by the competing sensations, and then Cy is there again at his side to demand his attention.
Sasuke manages a ragged, wet gasp, his mouth still pooled with drool that drips from his chin — trying to control the in-out rhythm of breath. And then after a delay of tension, his hand forms a perfect fist.]
（ he leans forward to drop a kiss against sasuke's shoulder where it's held in cruel flexion, and then he briefly covers sasuke's hand with his own, a crude imitation of holding hands before he settles back in his chair. there's a shift of his posture, easing into a slouch, and then he lifts his legs and settles them across the small of sasuke's back, ankles crossed and heels digging in. the end result leaves him at a bit of an angle to sasuke's bound position, but there's still plenty of space to work.
there's neither mercy nor kindness offered — the fall of the rod is brutal, precise. the blows redden at first, and then darken along the gradient of fresh bruising as each newer stripe is laid into his skin. normally, he is so attentive on sasuke's body language during the infliction of pain that he never quite loses himself in meting it out, but — knowing this is genjutsu, knowing that sasuke is in absolute control of the scene helps him to brush past the innate concern and fear. as much as it's dangerous and intoxicating to let go of his inhibitions, trusting beyond trust that sasuke will catch him if he strays is a panacea that allows it.
it's an act of love quite unlike any other — that lowering of his walls, that sidestep into the whipping as an enforcement of reality and not an indulgence of fantasy that requires strict rules and unyielding control. it becomes the only thing that occupies his senses, everything else filtered away, filtered out. the snap of impact, the way the vibration echoes along the rod to his hand, the sounds sasuke makes, muffled and truncated as they are. the way he tries to cringe away, the way he trembles but ultimately, keeps the correct count on his fingers.
when he's finished with one breast, he rolls the cane against the nipple piercing, raps it once to cause a bright starburst of pain, and then drops his feet back to the ground to lean in and touch him, palming over reddened, inflamed skin that radiates the heat of the blows back at him. this handling is gentler by contrast, soothing the way he holds him, supporting the weight of that heavy breast. ）
Oh, my sweet whore. You took that so well for me. You were made for this, weren't you?
（ his hand shifts lower, cupping the curve of a prominent belly and the promise contained therein, following the chain that's affixed to both nipples and clit down between his legs for another agonizing, teasing touch there, slick against his messy cunt. ）
You never could have known this bliss if you'd stayed as you were. Never known true submission, true pleasure, true meaning. This will be your life — an endless cycle of being used to meet my needs, bear my children, take my punishment. If I would have known you would be such a perfect slave, I would have captured you years ago.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
that's a good way of putting it 🤡🤡🤡
cy laps at that sweet spot at the crux of his thighs, tasting the nectar of arousal heady and thick on his tongue. the slip of two fingers turns to three, hand twisting. there's a tightness to his body that speaks to resistance, to sasuke's own pleasure in simulated refusal. ）
You'll spend the next three on my cock to make up for it.
（ there's a pat to his thigh — as if that's meant to be some comforting reward, and not a threat. ）
Is your milk in yet? Show me.
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Three weeks on Cy's cock is a promise sure to leave him wrung-out, ruined, pleading for mercy. Perhaps it has happened before. Perhaps he's been fucked across tireless days by this man, just to satiate that appetite.]
Don't be too rough.
[A quiet murmur, and maybe Cy will figure it out — that he's asking less for himself than the life that he carries.
Hands slip up to the sheer fabric draped around his shoulders, and before he's even shed the covering, that answer is clear — there are damp spots left on silk where he's leaked, nipples pebbled with pale milk once he disrobes.]
cw: kv does war crimes again
You've only assured your safety for another few months. Be careful what you ask me.
（ is the warning that follows, cy leaning up to press a meaningful kiss and a catlike rub of one cheek to the swell of his belly before he settles back on his knees. he's so fucking hard — no illusion necessary — he can feel precome dampening the fabric of his pants. not simply spreading sasuke's legs and fucking him is becoming increasingly a challenge the longer they inhabit the fantasy. that cy captured this man, beat and abused him and ultimately forced him into a woman's body to bear life unwillingly, all of those things speak to and satisfy that darkest part of him. but for each scar kulo vayn left on his psyche, for each deep desire — he's taken it, changed something of it, made it his own. kulo vayn didn't care about creating life, he only wished to take it — if pregnancy resulted from an assault, it was incidental to the act and it would not spare the one now sundered. kulo vayn liked to hurt people, liked to see genuine pain and fear and hopeless despair on their faces as he tortured them, as he held them down. cy might have come to enjoy the act of inflicting pain, but he rarely looks at someone's face as he does it, letting his gaze drift elsewhere. and the pain itself is structured, controlled, and most importantly — it ends.
but this fantasy lets him walk a finer line, beneath the shelter of sasuke's submission, his strength, and his own deepest needs that had been so long unmet before they had a chance encounter in a locker room, before cy put hands on him and moulded him like soft clay into what he's now become. someone who's taken back the power of their body, who's become confident and secure in knowing what he likes and in asking for it unashamedly.
for a moment, he's struck by the depths of feeling he experiences then. the love, the pride, the gratitude, and there's a gleam of tears at the corners of his eyes that he wipes away with a quick duck against sasuke's thigh, though he can't quite help how soft his expression is on sasuke when he lifts his head again. his voice, at least, is unchanged — that cruel, imperial tone coming so naturally to him even after ten millennia. ）
Milk yourself, taste it — and then come. I've got a surprise gift planned for you — and it will be easier on you to accept it if you've relaxed for me.
（ sasuke knows he won't be given a reprieve. he won't be permitted to refuse. it is not only the life in his belly he must advocate for, but the men that cy has spared but keeps captive, beholden to his compliance, his acceptance of this role he must play. ）
😭😭
He is a vessel, one that belongs to this man alone. His own agency does not matter. His autonomy no longer exists, all that he is placed into Cy's hands under the illusion of force such that he needs no concern for shame. His mind is empty, pleasure lighting up nerves close to pain, suffering that isn't a stranger to his experience but at least here, now, it takes meaning, and Cy cherishes him for it.
Through the cruel discipline of this role he's playing, Sasuke knows obedience is required; he has been trained for this. That rough thumb slides across his clit, dragging at the embedded metal of the piercing, a jolt of sensitivity through his lower body that has those interior walls clenching hard over Cy's knuckles. Without protest his right hand cups beneath the heavy weight of his breast, pale flesh overflowing in his palm, and squeezes — a whimper high in his throat for the throb of soreness it evokes. Milk drips, pearly-white, at the application of pressure, and his fingertips swipe it up to bring to his lips for his tongue to clean off.
He chases an orgasm — even if he doesn't need to, half-driven to that brink of release by the order alone. It's so much easier when he does not have to think. It pours out of him effortlessly, because Cy has told him to do it and the man holds dominion over his whole body, cunt spasming around those fingers, legs trembling in an effort not to move until the flow ebbs. He's panting, flush high in his cheeks, overwrought on the come down.]
no subject
（ he pats his hand just above the sparse, dark curls that frame his pretty cunt, and then he stands up. the rest of sasuke's body is given a perfunctory inspection the way one might check a horse for soundness — dispassionate, detached. caring more for function than form. but there is a moment of affection, perhaps, when he takes sasuke's wrist in his hand and lifts it, pressing a fleeting kiss against his palm.
when he's satisfied, he takes the opportunity to drop his hand against the neglected breast, fingers tightening until it too produces a messy leak of milk. there's a thoughtful hm, and then: ）
Go take a bath. Clean yourself, take the plug out. Your present should be ready when you return. Don't expect to sleep tonight — but you have my word I won't do anything that might harm our child.
（ and then, just — briefly outside the scene, he taps his other hand against his temple, clear sign to sasuke that he can take the image of the machine from his mind. he's envisioning the machine in two parts: the stockade, made from a metal scaffolding that forces someone bent at the waist and restrained, their hands cuffed, a fixed collar around their throat. there are small comforts offered: a padded bar beneath the breasts and again at the pelvis to support his pregnant belly, and at least the ergonomics of the forced position is only uncomfortable and not cruelly torturous.
the machine is an intricate design, predicated on a flywheel design — one dildo meant to, when activated, thrust forward into a bodily orifice. but the other is a little different, a hydraulic compressor that can be hooked into a second dildo for a second hole. sasuke should be able to deduce that one is intended for thrusting, but there's a brief moment of imagining that cy knows he can take directly from his mind: it's intended to be used with a compatible device that can contract and expand based on the pressure differential.
both can be adjusted to accommodate a participant standing or kneeling — he suspects sasuke will prefer to stand simply because it will be the more uncomfortable of the two options. ）
no subject
His hand twitches when his palm is kissed gently, but the words are directive and cold as his sore breast is fondled with that clinical attention. There's only one option, so he climbs to his feet, wavering slightly as he discovers his balance is upset by the additional weight of his midsection. It's strange to be pregnant, he discovers, even within the more comfortably controlled environment of a genjutsu — but he's thinking less of that and more of what Cy has in store for him as he obeys, walking to the adjacent chamber where he finds a bath full of warm water, waiting, skipping the monotony of preparation.
Cy's subtle cue wasn't missed. While he bathes, perfunctory in the scrub of soap that leaves pale skin gleaming pink, Cy will have what he wants, drawn from the creative ingenuity of the man's mind. So that when Sasuke dries off and walks out — naked, because these are the rules enforced on him, black hair like wet ink over slim shoulders — he discovers what Cy has crafted for him.
There is a moment where he — stares, more out of curiosity than anything else, although he won't deny there is some intimidation to approaching a machine like this. For the scene, he plays it like reluctance, lingering back.]
... I see. So, you've decided to torture me after all. Is this your "gift"?
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I'm offended you think I need a machine to torture you.
（ hello he is a WARLORD. ）
Step over the bar, bend forwards. Do I need to use the restraints, or are you going to behave and accept your gift graciously?
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But that doesn't mean he won't struggle when it matters. There is resistance — as much because he enjoys being forced to do this in reality as it is true to the character he plays. In the end, he does not accept graciously, and Cy positions him over the bar before shoving him in that forward bend, body a curve of muscle definition and swell of more feminine traits. The restraints come next, fitted expertly.]
Tired of fucking me yourself? Perhaps your age is getting to you.
[Half for show, half because he wants to feel Cy force him, Sasuke fights the whole way into those locks and buckles.]
no subject
the collar is last, and he locks it with a satisfying click.
then he takes up sasuke's long, dark hair and works it through a tie loop, hooking it to a bar above him so that his head is restrained by more than just the collar alone, held at a punishing angle that's suggestive of, ah — ）
You've got three holes, haven't you?
（ boy, he's gonna throatfuck you to the ragged edge of consciousness, actually.
once he's finished binding up his hair, he circles sasuke to drag the machine itself into position, petting one hand along the boy's hip. the explanation he unspools is as much so that sasuke can fill in any gaps in the detailing of the genjutsu as it is meant to intimidate the warlord's slave. ）
The one going in your ass is about eighteen inches. It doesn't thrust, so you only need to take it once. It does contract and expand in a sequence I control — so you'll find yourself going from mercilessly to tolerably full at my command. We're going to put this one in first.
（ the dildo itself can be removed from the machine, and he does so to make sure it's well-lubricated. sasuke may have developed a taste for taking things raw and rough, but if the scene is meant to bend them towards a gentler future, certain considerations need to be made. the concession to that preference is that he makes no move to ready him for it, to prepare — sasuke, therefore, can calibrate the level of pain he wants to accept based on his own preferences as cy thumbs the head of the dildo into his ass. he takes his time with it. the machine itself may lack a thrusting mechanism for this one, but he clearly has no desire to just force sasuke to take it to the hilt and move on.
instead, he works it in and then out of him. pushing it in until it meets resistance, and then easing back. there's a faint, disapproving tut as the dildo hitches at some point deep within his body. ）
I see you haven't kept up on your training while I've been away. You haven't used the toys I left you?
no subject
It doesn't matter. He would put his body in Cy's hands, regardless of what he might suffer. The trust runs so deep it is second only to the blood that keeps him alive.
That threat, and its obvious conclusion, makes Sasuke swallow hard enough to feel the collar's restrictive leather around his throat. He wants Cy's cock in his mouth so bad that it aches. But — he can't let the illusion of the scene fracture, so he turns a dark-eyed glare onto the man instead. Willful, petulant — a fire that hasn't burned out even if part of him has come to crave this man's ownership and possession of him.
His ass is tolerant to the first slide of the dildo's length, although there's soon a strain, muscles locking up on instinct until self-preservation (and, ultimately, trained experience) has him regulating his breath and forcing a physical relaxation.]
Why would I do that? If you wanted me to obey you, then you should have stayed to ensure it.
[The cuffs around his ankles clatter as he shifts on his feet, a meager adjustment in the bent-over posture he's made to hold. Tugging a little away from the dildo — pushing it an inch back out of his hole.]
I only have to be yours when you're here.
[A purposeful mockery, as if to plant some insinuation of who he might be fucking while Cy is gone on his war campaigns.]
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Oh, good girl — you know I love it when you fight me. （ the working length of the dildo — less than what he'd threatened — is pushed back in with one hand looping beneath sasuke's pelvis to force him still and steady to take it, until it's fully seated in him. cy strokes his hand against the boy's mons pubis, the jut of his swollen belly soothingly, as if he's trying to settle him into the relaxation and acceptance of the toy. ） You're so beautiful when you struggle, and I love that sharp tongue of yours. The only weapon I've left you with, hm?
（ a gentle little pat to his flank as he straightens up, hooking the dildo up properly to the machine. ）
When I turn it on, you'll feel it thicken inside you. The water's warmed to your body temperature, and it'll be pumped in beneath the silicone sheath of the dildo, slowly filling out until I'm satisfied, but it's going to be hard on your body because it'll be such a weight. It won't hurt, but you'll be desperately uncomfortable. You'll be glad for the restraints then, holding you up.
（ idly, he pushes two fingers into the boy's cunt, coming away messy and slick with arousal — as he circles sasuke deliberately, he undoes his pants and takes his cock in hand, smearing that honeysweet slick against the head of it, which hardly needs the help — precome has already beaded at the head of the glans. he pushes his dick in against the boy's mouth, sliding a thumb between his lips to prise them apart. his goal is a simple one: he wants sasuke to clean the taste of himself up with only his mouth. just a brief torment, before he finishes his work. ）
Next time I leave, I'll see to it you're seated on a cock eight hours a day. And if anyone gets any brave ideas to avail themselves of your other holes... mm. （ he pushes his hips forward, seating himself down sasuke's throat in a cruel push, petting his cheek, stroking the line of his throat until the collar inhibits it. ） I'll have them killed, for touching what's mine.
no subject
Part of Sasuke understands that the running narration of what comes next is partly practical, so that the illusion can shift to accommodate Cy's needs of it — but that second piece, the one that is clearly meant to keep him on the seat of anticipation, cuts his composure like a hot knife. Knowing what will happen beforehand makes him more sensitive to every torment, jolting when fingers abruptly push into his slippery cunt, swallowing another pitiful noise as he sees Cy slick his cock from the corner of his eyes.
Cy's presence, while he's affixed by restraints like this, is indomitable. Overwhelming. The man towers over him, radiating authority in a way that is impossible not to bend beneath. When that thumb pries his mouth open he bares his teeth — but he doesn't bite. Like he's learned. A red tongue cleans off his own slick arousal from the man's cock, leaving it shiny with spit. Then his throat is pushed into — he can't help the higher sound of protest that never makes it past his lips, stuffed down with the intrusion of Cy's dick, a yank at the hooked collar around his neck and tied-up hair taking him nowhere fast.
That possessiveness should not sound so good, but for the role he's playing it is like music, because this is all he is. He belongs to this man. He has been molded by these hands, made into a woman, subjugated to a position where his body is a vessel to give pleasure, accept pain, and produce children. Nothing else.]
no subject
There you go. Thank you for cleaning up your mess.
（ he cards a hand through sasuke's hair, and then slips back around behind him to tend to the second insertion — this dildo is markedly shorter, but it's thicker — though not beyond what sasuke can comfortably take. he tugs the machine into place and aligns the dildo so it will plunge into him the moment it's turned on, though he rubs it between the pretty folds of his pussy first before nudging it just barely inside him. there's a hard press of his palm against the boy's clit, and then he steps away to admire his work. speculatively — ）
Now, we need to figure out what to do with your tits. I've got a few ideas. I could tie them with weights — （ this is punctuated by him reaching down to squeeze one breast and to close his fingers tight against it, pulling it downward by a pinch to the nipple until the skin is taut and there's a spatter of milk on the floor. ） that will make them sway with every thrust of the machine. I could hit them with a riding crop until they're pretty and bruised for me, until you're crying from the pain.
（ a rougher tightening of his fingers accompanies that one, deliberately pressing bruises and a cruel twist of the breast until he gets some physical sign of pain from sasuke significant enough that he eases off. ）
You remember the humbler, right? How snug it felt against you, how well it kept you on your knees for me, how perfectly it presented your balls for torment? I could do something like that with your tits. Or I could just... （ another squeeze, another yield of milk in a messy spill across his fingertips, which he raises to his own mouth and tastes with an appreciative sound. ） milk you, and take that bountiful yield to feed your men. So they know everything you've sacrificed for their safety.
no subject
The man's palm is rough across his clit enough that he cries out, jerking in his bonds, those next words weaving a delirious web over his imagination. Cy fondles him, pinching a nipple made even more tender by the metal piercing hooked into it — his face is hot, sweat beginning to freckle his hairline with the strain of being trussed up. Milk is forced from his breast, dripping to the floor below in an obscene spill — it's painful, but with that sensation is a knife-edge of alleviation, too-full pressure eased by that forceful flow.]
Don't. It hurts when you touch them — stop. [A quiet plea, knowing that this glimmer of fear will be what Cy looks for. Covering his tits in bruises, or milking them, or dragging them down with weights: his fear is a shining beacon that allows tears to dampen his lashes.] I thought I said — to leave my men out of your... perversions. That was our agreement.
[His voice comes thin and strained, struggling where he's held bent at the hips, feeling that the slightest movement might push his pussy down onto the dildo and knowing he is wet enough it would slide right in.]
no subject
（ it's said almost sympathetically, as if it's a matter of sasuke simply having a poor memory, and not cy gaming the system. he makes one more cruel grind of his fingers against the boy's breast and then lets go, wiping his hand on his pants before he pats sasuke's flank. ）
Thing is, I don't recall ever agreeing to it.
（ he skirts around behind sasuke again to turn the machine on, just a slow drive of that second dildo into place, inch by tantalizing inch at the lowest possible setting. as it pushes into sasuke's pussy, he levers a hand between his legs and strokes against his clit. ）
There you go, good girl. （ it would sound almost fond, if the situation wasn't — what it is. ） You're so wet — you really missed me, huh, sweetheart?
no subject
Will Cy punish him if he comes now? He can feel the hot, blinding wave right at the boundary of his own self-control, threatening to crash through him.]
S—Stop, I'm cl... close. [There's no way to escape the pleasure of stimulation between his legs, in his cunt, where fingers drag across that sensitive bundle of nerves, but he tries by fighting his restraints.] It's too much.
no subject
Didn't I tell you once, you never get to say stop to me?
（ there's another long, slow drag of his fingers from the point of penetration to the piercing at his clit. he grasps the lead that comes off the piercing and gives it a firm, gentle tug. he can tell that sasuke's close, resisting against his own pleasure out of sheer, stubborn will — but he wants to drag him over the ragged edge just the same. ）
I've enjoyed it, you know. Making sure everyone knows what I've done to you. What I've reduced you to. You're serving as a cautionary tale to those that would resist me, and a fantasy to those who want to be like me. （ his left hand is free, and slips his palm over sasuke's stomach, possessive. ） I don't think there's anyone left in the realm who thinks your name synonymous with any word but whore.
no subject
And those cruel words degrade him further, make him nothing more than a whore pregnant by his enemy's seed. It burns to imagine the rest of the world's perception of him now. Stripped of pride, and power, and kept here like a decorated prize. There's a hitch in his throat, broken on another crack in composure — sobbing for air, eyes closed tight, past the point of formulating words in retaliation.
He comes hard, the orgasm trembling through him, pussy clenching until the size of the toy shoved into it starts to hurt a little; Cy will feel the tremors where that hand strokes over his swollen belly. He's gasping, crying out only to bite his tongue so it isn't so loud, feeling the slick rush of arousal that soon begins to smear his inner thighs.]
no subject
cy lets his hand drop away from between the boy's slick thighs, coming around in front of him — steps masked by the mechanical thrum of the machinery as that dildo is pushed into his body unceasingly. he one hand is put into sasuke's hair, and the other forces his mouth open — again, to clean his fingers. but it's clearly not the only thing he intends to do with the boy's open mouth, because his next act is to call a spider gag to hand, and once his hand has been satisfactorily cleaned, the gag is slotted into his mouth, holding it open, biting into the edges of his mouth should he try to work the ring free. but rather than his cock — at least for now — he heads to a chest along one wall and returns with a dildo that has similar dimensions, but with one salient difference: it has a hole from base to tip, wide enough and rigid enough that it can be breathed through.
there's no warm-up. no kind words. he simply takes sasuke's head by a rough grip of his hair and pushes the dildo into his mouth until it bottoms out at the back of his throat. he pulls it back and thrusts forward again, in time with the machine, and once sasuke is sufficiently messy with drool, the dildo is shoved in as deeply as he can take it, and then cy works to affix it to the gag, fully seated there. ）
You can breathe through it. Not well or easily, but you can. So long as you stay calm, it won't be a problem. You don't want to lose consciousness — a lack of oxygen could harm our child.
（ which he'd promised he wouldn't do, and meant. but sasuke knows how capricious he can be, and that the possibility of him going back on his word is high. it's not, and he wouldn't — after all, he cares about this life as much as sasuke has come to. but the illusion of fear is sweet enough for him.
he hooks one finger in the gag's restraints, and uses it to force sasuke to look at him. ）
Marshal yourself. I'm not finished making you come yet.
no subject
And then he sees the dildo. This time he lets the fear flash across his face, unprepared by the abrupt shove of hollow silicone into his throat, protest formed in the guttural sound that leaves him — pulling his head against its restraints even knowing he won't escape the man's brutal, precise actions. It slides in anyway; he feels it hit that tight space at the back of his throat, choking on it until that rhythm allows brief sucks of air and his mouth is pooling with drool.
Stay calm. The look he gives when forced is baleful, glaring — but he does make an effort to breathe by sheer necessity. It's difficult. At first he struggles to get it right, and Cy will hear him gagging around the toy's width, alternately taking oxygen through his nose to keep from blacking out. It's not supposed to be easy. That danger lurks, and he's well-aware that in this state he is vulnerable to everything this man chooses to do to him.
Even if all of that lethality is an elaborate illusion in genjutsu, he finds it intoxicating to pretend. He never thought it could feel so good to hand himself over, but it has unlocked some sense of freedom, subspace an Eden of relief in the foundation of their relationship. That's why his mouth relaxes, and his breathing becomes even, focused, taking the abuse as he has learned to do it.]
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then he stoops, kissing his forehead. ）
My perfect little slave. Look at that, three holes all used, just like you deserve. You look good like this for me, owned so completely that no other man would ever dare to put a hand on you.
（ he cups sasuke's cheeks briefly, and then lets him go, turning back to the room itself. a chair is dragged — he could move it with magic, but it's more fun to hear the irascible creak of the heavy furnishings as he drags it across the floor — and then arranged at sasuke's side. then he selects a cruel implement from a rack on the far wall, a slender rod whose purpose can only be one thing, as he sits down beside the boy. a snap of the rod impacts against one breast, and cy gives sasuke a brief, precious moment to sort out his breathing before he continues: ）
See, there's two problems here. One, I was away long enough on campaign that all my bruises faded from your pretty skin. Two, your tits are clearly aching for another kind of attention.
（ he'd promised sasuke a whipping, after all. the rod rubs against one tender nipple, and then there's another sharp tap against it, deceptively hard for how closely the blow falls. ）
So I'll give you a choice. Would you rather be milked or struck? Show me with your hand — one finger for the first option, two for the second.
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The scrape of the chair legs has the intended effect of intimidation. He shivers, waiting in that prone position, unable to fully turn his head and watch where Cy finally settles at his side. The first impact drives a high noise out of his throat — he can't even clench his jaw to smother the sound, so it's loud in his ears, half-choked by silicone. He loses his breath again, a few hitches of effort around the toy before he manages to grasp a tempered rhythm so he won't suffocate. The soft skin of his breast stings, redness blooming where he's been struck by the rod.
And then Cy presents him with that choice. Rather than the act itself, it is a decision between two different punishments — one that will provide pain, and one that will provide relief at the cost of severe, scalding humiliation. It feels more like a trick or an illusion. Won't Cy just do both, in the end?
What if Sasuke wants both? To have his tits bruised, striped with welts, and then to have Cy's hands covering those fresh marks as he's milked, splattering his own feet, pooling on the floor.
There's another sob, overwhelmed by the choice, a tear dripping down his hot cheek. His right hand fights the cuff holding it affixed, and then he shows one hesitant finger.]
the day sasuke says 'tits' outloud his sexism will be cured
See, you picked the humiliating option. That actually surprises me, given the stubborn adhesion you've had to your pride.
（ he leans forward in the chair, one arm braced on his knee as he reaches for one of sasuke's breasts, kneading roughly into the flesh and then squeezing until a glut of milk saturates his hand, splatters on the ground below them. ）
I think I'm going to do both anyway. Shh, shh — don't fight. I'll be gentle, since I think this is actually a big step for you. Accepting your place, your fate — sweetheart, short of bearing my child, that's about the best gift you could give me.
（ his touch is briefly gentled, almost a caress before he pulls away. ）
Just give me one sec, okay? I'm gonna fill out that dildo in your ass first so you've got some competing sensations to help you work through the pain.
（ he stands, pushing the chair back with an ominous shriek of wood on stone, stepping sideways to survey the machine. the dildo working his pussy gets an increase of its speed, the torturous slowness of the thrust increased to a more frantic pace. the other, as promised, gets an increase of its diameter, the hydraulic pump whirring as it fills the tight silicone sleeve with water from the reservoir. the water's warm thanks to genjutsu, so it won't be a shock to the system — but as he'd threatened, it will cause a rich heaviness as it thickens in his body. cy lingers a moment to ensure everything's working as intended, slaps sasuke once on the ass and then returns to his chair to take up the rod. ）
Count off on your hand for me, make a fist for five and start back at the beginning. Twenty to each breast. If you mess up the count, I'll start again. Make sure you control your breathing. Make a fist when you're ready for me to start.
（ of course, if he refuses he'll start anyway, but. #gettingsasuketoparticipateinhisowntormentishiskinktho. ）
he will be a changed (wo)man
He hears the chair, picking up his head, vision blurry with tears he stubbornly holds back. The threat earns a useless strain in his restraints, voice choked on protest — there's nowhere to go and his spirited attempts to resist are futile. Yet it feels good to struggle, no matter how stripped of his freedom to communicate.
As promised, the dildo in his ass fills and thickens, a sensation at first strange and warm but soon impossible to endure quietly as it stretches his hole to a dull throb. It stifles his ability to move in what limited space he has — forcing him utterly still to bear the full, heavy girth of that toy as best he can. A whimper responds to it, muscles shivering, the steady tempo of the other dildo in his pussy never ceasing. He feels overwhelmed by the competing sensations, and then Cy is there again at his side to demand his attention.
Sasuke manages a ragged, wet gasp, his mouth still pooled with drool that drips from his chin — trying to control the in-out rhythm of breath. And then after a delay of tension, his hand forms a perfect fist.]
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（ he leans forward to drop a kiss against sasuke's shoulder where it's held in cruel flexion, and then he briefly covers sasuke's hand with his own, a crude imitation of holding hands before he settles back in his chair. there's a shift of his posture, easing into a slouch, and then he lifts his legs and settles them across the small of sasuke's back, ankles crossed and heels digging in. the end result leaves him at a bit of an angle to sasuke's bound position, but there's still plenty of space to work.
there's neither mercy nor kindness offered — the fall of the rod is brutal, precise. the blows redden at first, and then darken along the gradient of fresh bruising as each newer stripe is laid into his skin. normally, he is so attentive on sasuke's body language during the infliction of pain that he never quite loses himself in meting it out, but — knowing this is genjutsu, knowing that sasuke is in absolute control of the scene helps him to brush past the innate concern and fear. as much as it's dangerous and intoxicating to let go of his inhibitions, trusting beyond trust that sasuke will catch him if he strays is a panacea that allows it.
it's an act of love quite unlike any other — that lowering of his walls, that sidestep into the whipping as an enforcement of reality and not an indulgence of fantasy that requires strict rules and unyielding control. it becomes the only thing that occupies his senses, everything else filtered away, filtered out. the snap of impact, the way the vibration echoes along the rod to his hand, the sounds sasuke makes, muffled and truncated as they are. the way he tries to cringe away, the way he trembles but ultimately, keeps the correct count on his fingers.
when he's finished with one breast, he rolls the cane against the nipple piercing, raps it once to cause a bright starburst of pain, and then drops his feet back to the ground to lean in and touch him, palming over reddened, inflamed skin that radiates the heat of the blows back at him. this handling is gentler by contrast, soothing the way he holds him, supporting the weight of that heavy breast. ）
Oh, my sweet whore. You took that so well for me. You were made for this, weren't you?
（ his hand shifts lower, cupping the curve of a prominent belly and the promise contained therein, following the chain that's affixed to both nipples and clit down between his legs for another agonizing, teasing touch there, slick against his messy cunt. ）
You never could have known this bliss if you'd stayed as you were. Never known true submission, true pleasure, true meaning. This will be your life — an endless cycle of being used to meet my needs, bear my children, take my punishment. If I would have known you would be such a perfect slave, I would have captured you years ago.
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cw: deranged cnc talk ig
pillow talk for them
truly tbqh
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stares at the 1.3k comments in this inbox
we're going to stumble out of this cr like we've just lost 100 years in faerie tbqh
yeah 🤡🤡🤡
the cysuke experience
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a rare 1/2
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are we free
revives this days later (text, 2 days post eggpocalypse??)
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1/2
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