[He braces, but it is not enough for the sensation that floods his system when the crop falls across his balls — pain like a living thing, electric through every nerve-end, fraying him to shreds in that gentle flick. He jerks bodily, loosing a ruined cry that he is unable to halt with either teeth or tongue though he tries a hard swallow at the end of it, muffled over that vocalization of effective pain. Cy's voice, in its normal tenor and drawl, washes over him like cool water and he doesn't hesitate to obey even when it seems impossible not to twist and thrash away from the warm palm cradled over stinging, sensitive balls.
Breathing hard through his nose, calm eventually begins to creep back in with the effort of discipline — until the man says what he says next. Cy steps easily back into that role, and he attempts to do the same, muscles so rigid they begin to cramp. His voice is a hoarse protest.]
That won't work.
[Surely this is obvious. He is not a woman, and he cannot bear children. But it also isn't a denial — that yes, the Sharingan passes genetically through matrilineal descent.]
You're insane.
[A harsher criticism, half-gasped breath when the crop drags over the furrow of his ass and probes at his hole with leather warmed by his own skin. It will find Sasuke's body still firm and resistant, unwilling to yield to intrusion.]
īŧ god, the way that cry of pain goes straight to his dick. cy adjusts his hips just a little, tugging sasuke closer so he can feel just how instantly at attention it made him, and then: īŧ
Shh, shh.
īŧ like someone directing an unruly child, it's said with a sort of condescending, chiding bent to the exclamation. with one final pet to his ink-dark hair, cy lets his hand drift down the boy's spine to his hips. the handle of the crop is a steady pressure against his hole, and cy deliberately spreads the cheeks of his ass so that he can force it inside with a cruel, deliberate push. the come from earlier will ease the penetration a little, but it will still hurt — all the more for the resistance in every line of his body. the braided leather will provide an interesting array of sensations, not that the warlord seems especially concerned with sasuke enjoying himself. īŧ
I'm surprised you don't know more about what I'm capable of. Here, let me show you a party trick. Take a breath — it'll be your last for a while.
īŧ he's used his powers around sasuke enough that he's familiar with the basic capacity — but he's never used it to shunt all the air out of a specific area before. he waits until he feels the expansion of sasuke's lungs against his thigh, and then he does it — extracting the molecular structure of oxygen. it's a slightly more complicated equation, but it's one he's had a lot of practice at, clearing the radius within sasuke's easy reach while leaving himself enough to breathe and talk.
he'd been careful not to simply eliminate the air itself — that would create a cavitation bubble that would slap them both in the face with explosive power, but it means that if sasuke tries to breathe it will not yield a useable lungful. now with the handle of the crop seated well inside sasuke, he lets his other hand wander back to press palm-down over his shoulderblades so he can feel when the oxygen deprivation starts to cause those small, physiological hitches to the lungs.
he takes his time fucking him with the crop, knowing that it'll make him burn with very real humiliation however safely the act is executed between them. returning to his prior topic as if he hadn't deviated at all — īŧ
But then I realized I'd have to share you, and you know what? īŧ a long, deliberate thrust of the crop carries it as deeply into sasuke's body as is physically possible. īŧ I'm just not cut out for that.
[The combination of that shushing murmur and the sudden, blunt penetration of the crop — Sasuke cannot help the way his back curves, reactive to the ache as unyielding leather drags at sensitive skin, ass stretched to take the handle into his hole without mercy. There's not enough lube to make it an easy slide, so he feels every hard inch of the object as it's forced further, deeper. His jaw throbs in his effort to keep his mouth shut, head down, blood flushed into his face to make cheeks bright pink and overly warm compared to the room's temperature.
He has found this sort of physical pain — sexual pain — is unlike any sort of agony brought by battle. Though his threshold to bear what Cy metes out is high, there's an intimacy to the nature of this practice that sensitizes him, combined with his own tendency to let down his guard with Cy in particular, so he's gasping before that order to take a breath even comes. He feels raw with the debasement of being fucked on the handle of a riding crop, like a plaything, a toy to sit pretty on someone's lap with no choice but to simply take it until it's over.
An obedient inhale follows because he knows better than to disobey in that moment. And then there's no air at all, ears popping for the sudden shift in pressure, a pocket of lack around his head that causes him to be too-aware of the frantic drum of his own pulse. Muscles are rigid, holding himself in the compromising position until the strain becomes too much — and he feels the dull drag of the handle push as deep as his body can permit, not enough pressure on his prostate but still making his cock drool precome in a humiliating mess between his legs, staining Cy's slacks.
He fights, of course. What else would a man in his state do? His body thrashes, trying to get his knees out from beneath Cy's heavy leg, using his right hand to grab the arm of the chair in an attempt to pivot his weight, to roll off and onto the ground, even if it means he might land directly on the cruel humbler encasing his balls.]
īŧ sasuke struggles, twisting his hips in an attempt to escape that feels more animal instinct than deliberate action — and so he doesn't hurt himself in the fall, cy pulls the crop free from his body, letting it drop on the floor before he loosens his grip on sasuke and then bodily shoves him off. if his foot happens to break enough of the fall to safeguard sasuke's balls from an impact on the floor, it at least appears more incidental than not.
cy stands up, shoving the chair back with the motion, and then he stoops to grab sasuke by the hair to bodily force him onto his stomach, pinning him with a foot against the small of his back. he does relinquish the oxygen, letting him breathe again, though not deeply with the press of his weight against his back. īŧ
You know, if you can't take your punishment like a man, maybe it's time to talk about the next thing I have planned for you.
īŧ he studies the rack of toys briefly, and then calls to hand a birch cane. slender and flexible, the sort that will sting and raise welts against skin, and then he brings it down — hard — against sasuke's thighs, narrowly missing the humbler where it's painfully indented against his skin. the rod makes a whistle in the air and a sharp crack on impact. īŧ
You move again, the next one's hitting your balls. Do I make myself clear?
īŧ there's a nod as sasuke drags air frantically into his lungs, and cy eases off his foot and instead circles around, sitting at sasuke's feet before he grabs him by the ankles and forcibly hauls him backwards, knowing that the drag of his cock against the plush rug is still going to be uncomfortable to bear. he arranges sasuke's across his splayed thighs, which forces his apart as well, and so that he can't squirm or fight again, he also hooks his right leg over sasuke's back, pressing his torso flat to the rug while also trapping his arm.
the birch rod makes whisper-light contact with his balls, teasing them with the promise of torment and cy turns it into a little pat before the next blow falls, striking sasuke vertically along the cleft of his ass. īŧ
— Anyway, back to my point. That parlour trick isn't the only one I've got up my sleeve. Once I've had my fill of you like this, you can say goodbye to your cock and balls. īŧ left-handed, he reaches to give sasuke's cock a stroke, and then there's another little slap to his tormented balls. īŧ Now the only question is whether or not I should let you come one more time before I make you a woman. What do you think, Uchiha?
[He goes to the floor, dull impact enough to drive a breathless grunt out of his throat that soon turns gasping, suffocating on the lack of air — until his head is yanked up by the roots and he can breathe again, oxygen filtering through the crush of a knee on his back. The violence of that handling is precise, exact. It makes him aware of Cy's indomitable strength in every place where he is touched, in every word that reaches his ears from a cool, merciless voice, changed to match the imperial stature of a warlord more than ordinary man. It makes him sensitive to the first red-hot stripe switched across his thighs — Sasuke feels the hitch in his lungs, continuous brutality of pain and humiliation beginning to fracture the bulwark of defiance within himself.
Or, he's not holding so tightly onto the role the further this scene continues, a natural collapse into eventual subservience earned by punishment. It is a mindset so easy to slip into because he wants it so badly — tight muscles almost spasming as Cy moves him, rearranges him into that restricted sprawl of limbs with the same demonstration of power. The cane will hurt like nothing else across his balls, already an abused shade of blood-flushed red between thighs to match the marks Cy has beaten to the surface of skin elsewhere. So he nods, even if it costs some pride.
That threat seems to take the air back out of the room for the way Sasuke reacts to it — a sobbing gasp is lost somewhere on the plush rug where he's held down, though he silences it by biting the inner flesh of his cheek until he tastes copper.]
You can't do that. It isn't — possible. [There's a jolt when he speaks, interrupted by the laying of another strike across his ass, immediately raising a pink line.] I am not a woman. [Hissed through teeth, like some denigrative thing.] Your lies don't frighten me.
[This man, after all, seeks to break him. Why would he allow him that satisfaction? Even if he squirms, cock clearly hard in that rough hand, trying to get away from the smack to his balls because he can't stop how vocal it makes him, how such bright pain forces another smothered sound of torment from his throat.]
I'll keep your scepticism in mind after I've knocked you up.
īŧ he milks sasuke's cock with a practiced hand, stopping with no clearly defined interval to deliver another sharp blow across his ass with the cane. the angle means there's slightly less power behind it, and the stripes fall at a different angle, more vertically than horizontally across his ass. the strikes fall sometimes against his thighs as well, and though he avoids further direct trauma to sasuke's balls, it's clear he hasn't forgotten about them — every once in a while there's a swish of the cane that ends without impact, the air stirred around them, the effect more psychological than physical. he wants to see sasuke cringe away from it. īŧ
Do you really want to risk resisting the last orgasm you'll ever get? Because trust me, once you're breeding stock, your pleasure's off the table. Replacing the men I lost in this campaign is gonna keep you busy on your back.
[The threat sears through him, evoked to flames by every strike of the cane across his body — and the suggestion of worse, that draft of disturbed air over his balls enough to make him strain in the restricted position like he means to get away from it even when there is nowhere to go.]
I won't, I won't let you... [Cy holds him in the cradle of those two sensations: the pleasure of a hand stroking his cock, full and heavy with blood from the snug ring at its root; and the sharp pain of every stripe of pink drawn up on the skin of ass and thighs, jostling the humbler that holds his balls in vulnerable imprisonment.] No. Stop.
[A suggestion of begging at last — bright with the shame of being forced to the brink of an orgasm, though it comes slower with the ring in place, building up behind his composure like a tidal wave. It's almost frightening, that intensity he seems to hold at bay through sheer will in his unwillingness to debase himself further.]
īŧ that's punctuated by another crack of the rod, this one drawing a line of blood across delicate, bruised flesh split from the blow. he sets the birch aside, and wipes the blood into a smear. not a stopping point to the scene, but to that particular activity — he knows what sasuke can take, but he also knows his own limits and for now at least, that line is drawn. with his hand newly free, he jostles sasuke's ass higher with a lift of his left knee and spits against the crack of his ass, letting it drip downwards to his hole. there's a lave of his tongue against his own fingers, and then he pushes three of them into sasuke's body with careless force.
he strokes sasuke down to the encircling band of the cock ring, and then back to the head in a torturously tight squeeze as he fucks his fingers into him, as merciless now as he was with the crop, knowing that taking three fingers is sometimes still a challenge for sasuke well-lubed and plenty prepped. tense from the pain of impact play and the show of resistance he's putting up? the snarl of pleasure and pain will be intense within him. īŧ
Go on, then. Fight me. See how much what you'll let me do matters to me. I can take whatever I want from you, Uchiha. Your men, your body, your pride, every ounce of agency you've ever had. You'll be nothing but an empty womb to fill — pretty breasts and a swollen belly. You will never see the sky again, feel the breeze on your skin. You're mine.
[Noise is blocked behind his teeth from the blow, but he feels the smear of blood, warm against skin bruised and aching — and he also knows that it represents a line in the dirt between them based on discussions of scene parameters. He doesn't mind. How can he, when next he hears the telltale vulgar spit against his hole and the slick sound of Cy's tongue? He knows what is coming, although there is little to do but brace himself from the breach of three fingers, those knuckles stretching him to the brim of what he can stand in that moment. New, fresh pain blooms up his spine — this one deep inside of him, throbbing in his cock.
His thoughts scatter. For a time there is only sensation of being fucked open on nearly-dry fingers, of Cy's voice in his ears promising a mean reality that only makes him harder, makes him squirm at the suggestion of becoming nothing but a hole for the man to fill, to breed, to own and possess. He hears himself make a fragile sound, pushing his head down against the rug as he begins a litany of no, no, no — unable to free himself from the way he's held across Cy's lap.
That absolute robbery of autonomy and control is all it takes, in the end. He half-sobs into the plush fibers against his face, muffling it purposefully because he knows it will be loud otherwise, the orgasm so intense it grips his body like a vice. He feels the way his hole constricts around Cy's knuckles, so tight it makes the pain worse but he enjoys that, too, hot splash of seed spilling between thighs almost against his will.]
īŧ the benediction of that protest is sharp and hot in his mind, lancing through his iron-banded control. he tastes blood, and realizes a moment's later it's because he's bitten the inside of his cheek to bleeding in an effort to subjugate his own awful impulses. sasuke is the only one that can get him this far, that has in thousands of years — and cy is so, so glad he cares for him enough that the love's a bulwark against all the awful things that live inside his mind.
but he laughs, the sound wintrous and cruel — and then he shoves sasuke off his lap abruptly, as if content to discard him as nothing more than a used toy. he stands, then, delivering a kick to sasuke's flank that is carefully calculated not to hit him anywhere damaging, or to hurt too much — and puts the birch rod back on the shelf. collects the crop for later cleaning. washes his hands in the standing sink in the corner of the room. not a look is spared for sasuke where he lays sprawled on the floor as cy starts ropework on the bed, cords and cuffs at each of the four posters, and a fifth and sixth from the slats atop the canopy, hanging in questionable places. once he's satisfied, he returns to sasuke in a long stride, grabbing him by the hair and by his wrist — thematically so he can't fight back, but more realistically because hauling him by the hair alone would hurt — as he drags him to the bed and then hefts him up onto the mattress. the clasped wrist is the first to be put into a cuff, closing the shackles around him and latching them, and then his thighs are wrenched apart with a punishing grip at one ankle to repeat the process. idly, as he works: īŧ
Pick a colour.
īŧ it's said so breezily, so playfully it might have no influence on all with what they're doing — but sasuke has insider information, and the dildos they brought along for use in this scene are coded by colour and size, with blue being the biggest. īŧ
[His own come has barely cooled on his thighs before he's shoved, weight half-caught on the bend of his own arm when that kick strikes his side, driving the next breath out of his throat. Then he simply lies there in the bed of that pain — all of its different points throbbing through him, off-set by the effusive warmth of orgasm until that begins to fade, and he just hurts. It's an acutely mindless sensation, as if he is lying in a pool of water that is too cold and too hot for his skin at once.
There's only a superficial fight when he's dragged onto the mattress, body weak like a kitten as his limbs are shackled into their respective places and his body is displayed on its back. Yet those dark, mismatched eyes glare up with a coal of that fire still alive — and at the question, he spits at the man's face.]
īŧ he makes a sort of 'hm' sound to himself as he wipes the spit away with one thumb, ratchets sasuke's legs up with bindings beneath the knees and then reaches between his thighs to start undoing the humbler. punishment for that little show of defiance comes in a firm squeeze of his balls before he undoes the pins holding the device closed against him, and then it's set aside. īŧ
Still got some fight in you.
īŧ he drags the bag he'd brought along a little closer, and starts rummaging through it. alcohol swabs and cream are brought out, and cy goes over the one bloody injury he'd inflicted, ruthless in sterilizing and painting it over with a salve. he murmurs something about keeping his whore free of infection, spinning it as less about his health or safety and more about simple property damage.
next taken from the bag is one of the dildos in the mid-range, and lubricant. as he pours it along the shaft of the dildo: īŧ
It's cute. I like it. Let's hope you pass that trait down to our kids, huh?
īŧ from between sasuke's bound legs, lifted and spread by the network of ropes above them and fastened beneath his knees, cy reaches up to stroke his belly suggestively, fingers digging in against the skin, before he lets his hand slip back down to sasuke's spent cock. the silicon ring is worked gently off, and then sasuke gets an affectionate little pat to his balls: īŧ
It'll be easier on you if you relax. You gonna do that for me, or are you going to keep making me hurt you?
[The squeeze at tender balls is almost too much, sensitivity sharp across nerves, causing his thighs to flex and attempt to pull away — soon stopped by the restriction of shackles that keep ankles affixed. He tries not to pant, tries to stay utterly silent as Cy removes the humbler and then tends to his wound without even a hiccup to the scene, but it's difficult. He wants to moan and squirm and thrash; he won't allow himself this indulgence, bound up in the pretense of his unwilling role easy as it is to perform. That self-denial is second nature.
The trust, however, is not — but they have worked to build a foundation over the months resilient to fear, to doubt, so that he puts himself in Cy's hands without question. Eyes follow the man's movement on the bed, knowing what is coming next and letting his expression wrinkle with a disturbance of calm.
Fingers touch him, pull off the ring, pat his balls, rub his belly with an insinuation that leaves him dizzy with desire. But his gaze never leaves the threat of the dildo, shiny from the smear of lubricant, silicone colored deep red.]
I will never surrender to you willingly, [are the hoarse words, a little slurred now from pain and pleasure alike.] I thought I'd made myself clear.
[Hurt me, the defiance in his glare suggests — and the deeper, submissive want in his heart begs.]
Do you really care? [Quieter, a murmur of low and ragged breath.] You're going to do what you want regardless. I won't demean myself for the sake of comfort.
Of course I care. You're going to be the mother of my children. But if you're going to be stubborn about it...
īŧ there's a smile, charming but utterly devoid of emotion in the eyes as cy drops a kiss against one of his calves, and then presses the dildo in against him. the first breach of his hole is almost humiliatingly slow, waiting until his body does edge towards either relaxation or simply too near exhaustion to stay tense. it's as much about forcing the surrender, for sasuke to demean himself as it is about genuine care for his comfort. once it's made that first deep inward slide, until the base is flush against him, he proceeds to pull it back and plumb all the more deeply inward, this time forcefully and rough. he shifts so he's close enough behind sasuke to press the base of the dildo against his knee to steady it, freeing up his hands so he can pull sasuke's hips in against it, rocking against him. īŧ
Give it time. In a year you'll be begging to suck my cock for a kind word.
īŧ once he's satisfied, another hank of rope is used to sling about sasuke's hips and thighs and the crack of his ass, binding the dildo in against him with a coin knot. the ropes are tight enough to restrict bloodflow, to really dig in and hurt — but that's on purpose, because he knows sasuke's a bit slighter as a woman. not by much, but enough to make the difference.
then he slips from the bed, going to where sasuke's right hand is restrained in the cuff. he kisses his knuckles, and then forces his hand to form the sigils sasuke had taught him. this part, of course, is a bit of a fabrication — it does need sasuke's cooperation to work, as cy has no chakra to channel. but at the end of the sequence, the shift happens, and sasuke is left in his female form. cy reaches to pinch one of his nipples, hefting the breast upward by its own weight before releasing it to the plush spill across the boy's chest, and then: īŧ
[The first push of the toy inside of him sits just at the excruciating line of bearable, slow enough to force muscles to give, allowing silicone to slide those inches deeper with the aid of lubricant. He feels the way his body is made to accommodate; the stretch is dull, an aching fullness when he's plugged to the flared base. Then it slips out and Cy thrusts it back in, simulated fucking to the way his hips are held by both hands, speared down onto the dildo while kept in that rigid and uncompromising position. Another humiliation — and this one he cannot help but gasp into, unable to stifle, every limb bound to the bed leaving him defenseless.
You're going to be the mother of my children. It serves a purpose — fear flashes as the toy is fastened into place, fixed so that he is unable to ignore how it feels buried in his ass. Mismatched eyes follow the man off the side of the bed, questioning, almost frantic. Not a parlor trick this time, but—
Of course it requires the bend of his chakra, the will of his own power. But the role he plays does not know that, and his horror is easy to find, because once he might have truly thought this abhorrent. Under other circumstances, in someone else's hands, he would not have wanted to be changed into a woman.]
You — bastard, [hissed behind teeth, flinching from the pinch to a sensitive nipple quick to shade cherry-red.] Stop. Undo it now. Change me back!
[It's a panicked snarl, all strength poured into the way he thrashes in his binds, yanking at the shackles regardless of the damage to skin. He is too aware of the heaviness of breasts, a tapered waist down to wider hips, restriction of rope perfectly suited for the altered anatomy. He's never transformed with something inside of his body before, but the experiment succeeds as he feels the hard wedge of the dildo still nested in his ass, unyielding.]
īŧ he sits beside sasuke on the bed as he thrashes and squirms in the bindings, reaching to gently pet his hair as if simply calming someone from a nightmare. no amount of struggle seems to bother him, he simply manoeuvres around it, or redirects any attempted blows sasuke tries to make against him. īŧ
Call me whatever you want, it's a one-way ticket. No changing back.
īŧ sasuke's hair is newly made long and wild, that same beautiful ink-black shade as normal, so dark it swallows the light as cy combs it out and then begins to braid it into a sleek coil that would fall nearly to those broad hips if sasuke were to stand. īŧ
It's okay. īŧ it's soothingly said, though condescension drips from his tone. īŧ You'll get used to it.
īŧ once the plait is finished, he pulls one of those cords down from the overhead slats, winding it through his hair in a complicated twist that — while it doesn't immobilize his head, certainly cuts down on the amount of thrashing he can do. īŧ
[Those fingers braid his hair in such a sensual way that out of context this might seem gentle and loving but for how the plaited length is soon twisted into the cord above, holding his head. The immobility is immense, his entire body restricted now in that display on the mattress. Bare-breasted, his chest heaves with every desperate gasp, unable to close his legs against what now sits between them — just as the man had promised.
Another useless thrash, more like a trussed-up animal for the good it does to free him of his binds, before Sasuke falls still — frustrated, resentful.
Afraid.]
I won't, [is the hiss, voice strained and tight, its pitch not so low.] Never. I won't let you get away with it. I'll — kill you myself.
[All he has left to fight with are his words, and he won't spare them, even if they ring hollow.]
īŧ that's deliberate — the cruel misgendering only adding to the humiliation of the scene as cy leans in and kisses his forehead in a simulacrum of sweetness, before he sits back on the bed, reaching across sasuke's bound body for the bag, which he heaves up onto his midriff not entirely unlike sasuke's just a convenient staging ground for what's coming next. īŧ
Slaves wear body jewellery in their master's colours. You don't mind piercings, right?
īŧ it's said conversationally, though it's clear by the rummaging he does in the bag that he actually doesn't care about the answer or intend to give ground. at this point, it's more about instilling fear and obedience than anything else — and when he finds the piercing kit he sucks his teeth in approval. the kit is opened, single-use needles of varying gauges bare on black velvet set out for his use, and then a delicate moon-silver chain designed to affix to nipple piercings is spilled out of a little satchel. it's meant to loop once around the waist, and then trail lower to another piercing done somewhere rather more intimate. the colour he spoke of is little red gems — fake, on their budget, but real enough for the scene.
idly, he takes one of the sterilizing sheets and starts wiping down one breast, tweaking the nipple erect, rolling it between the disposable cloth fabric. a pair of piercing clamps are then affixed to it, stretching it out for a clean pierce. īŧ
I don't want to have to do this more than once — let's not fight about this, okay?
īŧ the proper gauge is selected, and then he changes his position, pinning sasuke's arm at the elbow to the bed with one knee so he well and truly has little movement allowed to him — the other, though less weight is applied than to his arm, is put against his midrift for similar reasons. he holds the clamp in one hand and tugs — the other swiftly, expertly slides the needle through the skin. īŧ
[They talked at length about this particular stipulation. Sasuke recalls every word of the discussion — but there is a surprising reaction to it in motion, as Cy's weight on the bed dips the mattress, as that kiss crowns his head in contrast to the degradation of words. It isn't fear that races his heart in an uptick of adrenaline, because this pain is certainly on the same plane as bearing a blade in combat, only more diminutive, more fractional. Instead there's a roar of something else less recognizable when Cy arranges his knees, pinning Sasuke's right arm and middle so there can be no possible struggle, as his heavy breast is wiped clean and one pale-pink nipple set in the clamp in such mechanically practiced movements.
He sucks in a shaking breath as for a moment his role cracks, fissures — there's a sobbing little sound around the name, Cy, when that needle punctures tender skin. It is such brief pain, like static electricity on his nerves — just an acute starburst before fading, yet still bright enough to gleam wet in his eyes with unshed tears. The jewelry catches and hooks, glittering ruby-red in the warm light of the room.
And as soon as it's finished Sasuke is assailed by the rush of that same feeling. It is possession in practice, body given to Cy's total ownership to be changed, made pretty, wearing Cy's colors, Cy's taste, Cy's permanent mark. He would be a woman forever if Cy wanted it. He would bear as many children as Cy asked him to. He would scar and pierce any part of his flesh for Cy's satisfaction.
... None of which fits the scene, now, where he is meant to be defiant and prideful and actively unwilling. Sasuke takes another breath, aware that his inner thighs are hot and slick with the messiness of his cunt in a powerful wave of arousal he can't physically prevent — but he leans back into his role, trying to be good.]
You're awful. Deranged, [is the quiet, panting whimper as Cy continues his work, chain cool across naked skin.] S—Stop. I don't want to... do this for you. [Weakened but still trying, pulling his head even when it yanks at his scalp in a fire of discomfort.] I won't be yours. Take my body, you'll never have — anything else of mine.
īŧ that soft utterance of his name makes him break character for just a moment, one hand splayed flat against sasuke's sternum, just petting his skin soothingly the way he did after that first spanking. it's tenderness amidst the tempest, and he meets sasuke's eyes a moment, brow lifted in a silent question. but the bell has not chimed nor safeword uttered, and whatever he finds in sasuke's face seems to satisfy — the other nipple is similarly pierced, and the chain drawn between those breasts. the mathematical perfection of the measurements seems intentional — they're tight enough to pull at the nipples in defiance of gravity, but not so tight it will cause true and lasting pain. just discomfort that will intensify with each breath, and ease with each exhalation.
then, cy moves between his thighs, pulling the bag from his midsection so he can keep an eye on sasuke's face. with the same cool efficiency as before, he begins the process of cleaning him with another of the wipes. the lion's share of his attention is to the clit itself, tugging the hood gently back with his thumb. īŧ
You think it bothers me to hear you call me deranged? Sweetheart, this is war.
īŧ a double endentre to be sure, though it's said with a smile. īŧ
The whole fucking thing's deranged. You should be grateful I'm going to use your body to create instead of destroy.
īŧ he rolls sasuke's clit between his fingers until he can trap the nerve, and then he slides the needle beneath it, through the hood of it at its base. as piercings go, the triangle is one of the better ones for increasing sexual pleasure in those with a vulva. the piercing for the last part of the chain is worked through it, and then cy gives his clit a little flick. īŧ
You've got such a pretty little cunt. And so wet — are you sure you're not into this?
[His entire body jerks when Cy's fingers draw apart the slick folds of his cunt, unprepared for how sensitive it feels simply to be touched there when he's already drenched and swollen with arousal — and he is even less prepared for the attention paid to the clit, a wave of heat washing through his bloodstream like aphrodisiac. He hasn't taken on this form in a little while, so it is almost-new, relearning the places where a woman feels pleasure, that slit between his legs seeming to ache with the desire to be touched, rubbed, petted. Yet Cy does none of that, only wipes him clean perfunctorily before targeting that most tender spot — pierced nipples stinging when his chest heaves with deep, sobbing breaths, pulling the silver chain taut between them.
In the end, he can't tell why or how it happens, but he's certain an orgasm crashes through him as Cy toys with his clit and slides the needle up through the hood, muscles spasming with a shock of pleasure-pain that makes him momentarily faint. The act of being pierced by Cy's hand bound up in this scene of conquering ownership — it makes him undone, braced against the immensity of sensation and biting his own lip until it bleeds to withhold the cry he wants to make.
Shaking afterward, chain jingling in a bright glimmer on his skin, he flinches at the flick to tender nerves.]
I'm not. I'm not. [Half-senseless protest babbles out of him, bitten lip giving the false appearance of a red lipstick on his mouth.] Let me go, I'll... do anything else. I'll swear loyalty to you. I'll kill for you. Just — let me go.
īŧ that orgasm shivers out of him, and cy just lets him ride it out, petting and stroking him with amusement — simulated — and approval — genuine. he will never stop loving how pleasure looks on sasuke, how it pours tension and then relief into every muscle, the sounds he makes, the way he thrashes in resistance against it. the blood from his bitten lip red as the glittering gemstones of the chain. outside the scene for just a moment, he kisses sasuke's knee — and then it's right back into the acting.
the chain lays against sasuke's skin, gleaming as cy plucks it like a harp string, and then follows it between his thighs to his breasts. the chain is pulled taut, lifting them up by the piercings — and then he lets it drop back down. there's a shift as he crawls between sasuke's legs, one arm braced beside his head, and leans down intimately into his space, forcing a kiss that tastes of blood, rubbing against his cheek like a cat until he can whisper in his ear: īŧ
No.
īŧ his hand slips between them, trailing down against that chain like an anchor, tugging at his clit with only a little cruel insistence first — and when he gets to the boy's cunt he parts the labia with a push of his fingers until he gets to his hole, fingers slipping in easy for how wet he is. he can feel the press of the dildo that's up his ass, and pushes down against it with a thoughtful little sound. īŧ
No, the only thing for you to do from here is take what I give you. Every minute, every hour of the day — until I'm finished with you. You can fight all you want — but you should know it accomplishes nothing but getting me hard.
[The piercings are still tender and new — his body has no capacity to heal quickly without the aid of medical ninjutsu, so when Cy pulls on the chain, lifting his breasts by their full weight, his nipples ache with a raw sensation of pain that clears the hazy remnants of pleasure from orgasm. He whimpers, a sound lost when their mouths slide together in a satisfying collision that shares the taste of blood between them. Then his head turns to the side to escape the scrape of stubble, the voice purred into his ear.
A harsh, merciless denial. Sasuke feels his own heart pounding in his chest beneath the swell of breasts, frantic, anticipating the hand that slips down between them and unable to jolt away from cruel fingers at his clit. The area is sore where the jewelry hooks under the hood, disturbed by even the slightest movement — almost unbearably sensitive when his cunt is suddenly full of Cy's knuckles from that wet inward slide. With the toy buried in his ass, it feels like there is no room to allow anything else; the sensation of being spread open in those two separate places is utterly foreign to him. Cy nudges the dildo from within that hot interior and it makes Sasuke jerk hard at the ropes leashing him down to the bed. His mouth opens, gasping, trying to find speech.]
I'll beg you. [Bargaining still — and a willingness to strip away his pride if it means delivering him from this fate. It comes out quiet, shaken.] Anything. What do you want? Anything else.
[The threat of what has been suggested is looming closer to finality, with the man heavy on top of him, those fingers pushed up into his cunt to make it clear: he's going to be fucked until he's pregnant in this body.]
Don't do this. You won't — the power of my bloodline — you won't be able to control it.
īŧ he laughs, pressing a blood-smeared kiss against sasuke's shoulder. mockingly: īŧ
Like I'm not controlling you right now?
īŧ he pulls his hand away from sasuke's cunt, and then sits back, licking his fingers clean with obvious relish, leaning on one of sasuke's bound and lifted legs with a brace of one elbow. it's so cavalier it's insulting, using him as little more than furniture. īŧ
Like I haven't controlled every aspect of this encounter from the moment you set foot on the battlefield to the moment I collared you? And you think I can't marshal children?
īŧ there's a scoff, and then a final suck of his fingers, and then he pats sasuke's thigh playfully. possessively. īŧ
The time for you to submit, be obedient, swear fealty to me in exchange for better treatment and autonomy is long, long past. You pinned your pride to victory, and you've lost. Accept it. The only thing left for you is to accept that the combination of your power and your beauty is what is keeping you alive, and to be thankful for it.
īŧ if sasuke attempts another protest from that point on, it's ignored. instead, cy starts rearranging rope-work, moving him however he wants him. he does a torso-tie that pins him to the headboard, one rope over his waist but below the chain so it won't tug at it — and another under the armpits but over his breasts. his knees are lowered, now — still tied at the ankles, but allowed to rest neutrally — if spread-eagled — against the bed.
the result is that sasuke is tied sitting, his hand left free — a clear announcement of how little threat is perceived from sasuke at the moment. once cy's satisfied with his rope work, he stretches, cracks his neck with an audible pop as he rolls out his shoulders and stands. īŧ
I don't think I'm done hurting you yet. What do you think, can you take one more thing for me, t'che serikko?
[His attention stays rapt on Cy, finding it easy to believe that performance — how effortlessly the man instills authority in the pitch of his voice, and control in every graceful, confident movement. If not for the foundation of their relationship so far, perhaps he might have believed it too well. But he knows better. There is a bell in his hand and a word that will get him out.
He watches Cy clean off wet, glistening fingers and has to swallow past the sudden thickness in his throat. And the words, heavy and final, hammering down the nails of discipline and punishment — he is pliant as he's rearranged up against the headboard, ropes constructed into new knots that hold his upper body in a new position, leaving enough freedom to give the illusion of autonomy even when it will vanish from the first test. Because it is true, and the resentment is in the downward tilt of discolored eyes, a gaze that peers out through dark lashes with a fire burning low, dull embers. Any window of opportunity he might have to beg and plead his way out of this has closed. Is there another path? Could he play into it, pretend at submissiveness and obedience, until the man's guard is down? Not right away. It would be too obvious.
He says nothing through the evisceration of hope, and only lifts his right hand to touch the collar around his throat — avoiding any other part of his body as if in rejection of its current shape. That phrase draws a sharp look, one kept insolent despite the way it curls heat low in his belly for knowledge of what it means.]
Does it matter what I choose? Whether I tell you yes or no, you'll do it anyway.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2024-07-06 05:34 pm (UTC)Breathing hard through his nose, calm eventually begins to creep back in with the effort of discipline — until the man says what he says next. Cy steps easily back into that role, and he attempts to do the same, muscles so rigid they begin to cramp. His voice is a hoarse protest.]
That won't work.
[Surely this is obvious. He is not a woman, and he cannot bear children. But it also isn't a denial — that yes, the Sharingan passes genetically through matrilineal descent.]
You're insane.
[A harsher criticism, half-gasped breath when the crop drags over the furrow of his ass and probes at his hole with leather warmed by his own skin. It will find Sasuke's body still firm and resistant, unwilling to yield to intrusion.]
cw: now we're into object fucking and breathplay ig
Date: 2024-07-06 06:01 pm (UTC)Shh, shh.
īŧ like someone directing an unruly child, it's said with a sort of condescending, chiding bent to the exclamation. with one final pet to his ink-dark hair, cy lets his hand drift down the boy's spine to his hips. the handle of the crop is a steady pressure against his hole, and cy deliberately spreads the cheeks of his ass so that he can force it inside with a cruel, deliberate push. the come from earlier will ease the penetration a little, but it will still hurt — all the more for the resistance in every line of his body. the braided leather will provide an interesting array of sensations, not that the warlord seems especially concerned with sasuke enjoying himself. īŧ
I'm surprised you don't know more about what I'm capable of. Here, let me show you a party trick. Take a breath — it'll be your last for a while.
īŧ he's used his powers around sasuke enough that he's familiar with the basic capacity — but he's never used it to shunt all the air out of a specific area before. he waits until he feels the expansion of sasuke's lungs against his thigh, and then he does it — extracting the molecular structure of oxygen. it's a slightly more complicated equation, but it's one he's had a lot of practice at, clearing the radius within sasuke's easy reach while leaving himself enough to breathe and talk.
he'd been careful not to simply eliminate the air itself — that would create a cavitation bubble that would slap them both in the face with explosive power, but it means that if sasuke tries to breathe it will not yield a useable lungful. now with the handle of the crop seated well inside sasuke, he lets his other hand wander back to press palm-down over his shoulderblades so he can feel when the oxygen deprivation starts to cause those small, physiological hitches to the lungs.
he takes his time fucking him with the crop, knowing that it'll make him burn with very real humiliation however safely the act is executed between them. returning to his prior topic as if he hadn't deviated at all — īŧ
But then I realized I'd have to share you, and you know what? īŧ a long, deliberate thrust of the crop carries it as deeply into sasuke's body as is physically possible. īŧ I'm just not cut out for that.
𤥠they are so (not) normal!!!!!
Date: 2024-07-06 07:34 pm (UTC)He has found this sort of physical pain — sexual pain — is unlike any sort of agony brought by battle. Though his threshold to bear what Cy metes out is high, there's an intimacy to the nature of this practice that sensitizes him, combined with his own tendency to let down his guard with Cy in particular, so he's gasping before that order to take a breath even comes. He feels raw with the debasement of being fucked on the handle of a riding crop, like a plaything, a toy to sit pretty on someone's lap with no choice but to simply take it until it's over.
An obedient inhale follows because he knows better than to disobey in that moment. And then there's no air at all, ears popping for the sudden shift in pressure, a pocket of lack around his head that causes him to be too-aware of the frantic drum of his own pulse. Muscles are rigid, holding himself in the compromising position until the strain becomes too much — and he feels the dull drag of the handle push as deep as his body can permit, not enough pressure on his prostate but still making his cock drool precome in a humiliating mess between his legs, staining Cy's slacks.
He fights, of course. What else would a man in his state do? His body thrashes, trying to get his knees out from beneath Cy's heavy leg, using his right hand to grab the arm of the chair in an attempt to pivot his weight, to roll off and onto the ground, even if it means he might land directly on the cruel humbler encasing his balls.]
cw from here on out for deliberate misgendering/threats of sexual violence/breeding/etc
Date: 2024-07-06 09:09 pm (UTC)cy stands up, shoving the chair back with the motion, and then he stoops to grab sasuke by the hair to bodily force him onto his stomach, pinning him with a foot against the small of his back. he does relinquish the oxygen, letting him breathe again, though not deeply with the press of his weight against his back. īŧ
You know, if you can't take your punishment like a man, maybe it's time to talk about the next thing I have planned for you.
īŧ he studies the rack of toys briefly, and then calls to hand a birch cane. slender and flexible, the sort that will sting and raise welts against skin, and then he brings it down — hard — against sasuke's thighs, narrowly missing the humbler where it's painfully indented against his skin. the rod makes a whistle in the air and a sharp crack on impact. īŧ
You move again, the next one's hitting your balls. Do I make myself clear?
īŧ there's a nod as sasuke drags air frantically into his lungs, and cy eases off his foot and instead circles around, sitting at sasuke's feet before he grabs him by the ankles and forcibly hauls him backwards, knowing that the drag of his cock against the plush rug is still going to be uncomfortable to bear. he arranges sasuke's across his splayed thighs, which forces his apart as well, and so that he can't squirm or fight again, he also hooks his right leg over sasuke's back, pressing his torso flat to the rug while also trapping his arm.
the birch rod makes whisper-light contact with his balls, teasing them with the promise of torment and cy turns it into a little pat before the next blow falls, striking sasuke vertically along the cleft of his ass. īŧ
— Anyway, back to my point. That parlour trick isn't the only one I've got up my sleeve. Once I've had my fill of you like this, you can say goodbye to your cock and balls. īŧ left-handed, he reaches to give sasuke's cock a stroke, and then there's another little slap to his tormented balls. īŧ Now the only question is whether or not I should let you come one more time before I make you a woman. What do you think, Uchiha?
the cws keep evolving
Date: 2024-07-06 11:46 pm (UTC)Or, he's not holding so tightly onto the role the further this scene continues, a natural collapse into eventual subservience earned by punishment. It is a mindset so easy to slip into because he wants it so badly — tight muscles almost spasming as Cy moves him, rearranges him into that restricted sprawl of limbs with the same demonstration of power. The cane will hurt like nothing else across his balls, already an abused shade of blood-flushed red between thighs to match the marks Cy has beaten to the surface of skin elsewhere. So he nods, even if it costs some pride.
That threat seems to take the air back out of the room for the way Sasuke reacts to it — a sobbing gasp is lost somewhere on the plush rug where he's held down, though he silences it by biting the inner flesh of his cheek until he tastes copper.]
You can't do that. It isn't — possible. [There's a jolt when he speaks, interrupted by the laying of another strike across his ass, immediately raising a pink line.] I am not a woman. [Hissed through teeth, like some denigrative thing.] Your lies don't frighten me.
[This man, after all, seeks to break him. Why would he allow him that satisfaction? Even if he squirms, cock clearly hard in that rough hand, trying to get away from the smack to his balls because he can't stop how vocal it makes him, how such bright pain forces another smothered sound of torment from his throat.]
the final pokemon evolution gonna be wild
Date: 2024-07-07 12:01 am (UTC)īŧ he milks sasuke's cock with a practiced hand, stopping with no clearly defined interval to deliver another sharp blow across his ass with the cane. the angle means there's slightly less power behind it, and the stripes fall at a different angle, more vertically than horizontally across his ass. the strikes fall sometimes against his thighs as well, and though he avoids further direct trauma to sasuke's balls, it's clear he hasn't forgotten about them — every once in a while there's a swish of the cane that ends without impact, the air stirred around them, the effect more psychological than physical. he wants to see sasuke cringe away from it. īŧ
Do you really want to risk resisting the last orgasm you'll ever get? Because trust me, once you're breeding stock, your pleasure's off the table. Replacing the men I lost in this campaign is gonna keep you busy on your back.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 06:02 pm (UTC)I won't, I won't let you... [Cy holds him in the cradle of those two sensations: the pleasure of a hand stroking his cock, full and heavy with blood from the snug ring at its root; and the sharp pain of every stripe of pink drawn up on the skin of ass and thighs, jostling the humbler that holds his balls in vulnerable imprisonment.] No. Stop.
[A suggestion of begging at last — bright with the shame of being forced to the brink of an orgasm, though it comes slower with the ring in place, building up behind his composure like a tidal wave. It's almost frightening, that intensity he seems to hold at bay through sheer will in his unwillingness to debase himself further.]
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 06:25 pm (UTC)īŧ that's punctuated by another crack of the rod, this one drawing a line of blood across delicate, bruised flesh split from the blow. he sets the birch aside, and wipes the blood into a smear. not a stopping point to the scene, but to that particular activity — he knows what sasuke can take, but he also knows his own limits and for now at least, that line is drawn. with his hand newly free, he jostles sasuke's ass higher with a lift of his left knee and spits against the crack of his ass, letting it drip downwards to his hole. there's a lave of his tongue against his own fingers, and then he pushes three of them into sasuke's body with careless force.
he strokes sasuke down to the encircling band of the cock ring, and then back to the head in a torturously tight squeeze as he fucks his fingers into him, as merciless now as he was with the crop, knowing that taking three fingers is sometimes still a challenge for sasuke well-lubed and plenty prepped. tense from the pain of impact play and the show of resistance he's putting up? the snarl of pleasure and pain will be intense within him. īŧ
Go on, then. Fight me. See how much what you'll let me do matters to me. I can take whatever I want from you, Uchiha. Your men, your body, your pride, every ounce of agency you've ever had. You'll be nothing but an empty womb to fill — pretty breasts and a swollen belly. You will never see the sky again, feel the breeze on your skin. You're mine.
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 07:00 pm (UTC)His thoughts scatter. For a time there is only sensation of being fucked open on nearly-dry fingers, of Cy's voice in his ears promising a mean reality that only makes him harder, makes him squirm at the suggestion of becoming nothing but a hole for the man to fill, to breed, to own and possess. He hears himself make a fragile sound, pushing his head down against the rug as he begins a litany of no, no, no — unable to free himself from the way he's held across Cy's lap.
That absolute robbery of autonomy and control is all it takes, in the end. He half-sobs into the plush fibers against his face, muffling it purposefully because he knows it will be loud otherwise, the orgasm so intense it grips his body like a vice. He feels the way his hole constricts around Cy's knuckles, so tight it makes the pain worse but he enjoys that, too, hot splash of seed spilling between thighs almost against his will.]
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 07:55 pm (UTC)but he laughs, the sound wintrous and cruel — and then he shoves sasuke off his lap abruptly, as if content to discard him as nothing more than a used toy. he stands, then, delivering a kick to sasuke's flank that is carefully calculated not to hit him anywhere damaging, or to hurt too much — and puts the birch rod back on the shelf. collects the crop for later cleaning. washes his hands in the standing sink in the corner of the room. not a look is spared for sasuke where he lays sprawled on the floor as cy starts ropework on the bed, cords and cuffs at each of the four posters, and a fifth and sixth from the slats atop the canopy, hanging in questionable places. once he's satisfied, he returns to sasuke in a long stride, grabbing him by the hair and by his wrist — thematically so he can't fight back, but more realistically because hauling him by the hair alone would hurt — as he drags him to the bed and then hefts him up onto the mattress. the clasped wrist is the first to be put into a cuff, closing the shackles around him and latching them, and then his thighs are wrenched apart with a punishing grip at one ankle to repeat the process. idly, as he works: īŧ
Pick a colour.
īŧ it's said so breezily, so playfully it might have no influence on all with what they're doing — but sasuke has insider information, and the dildos they brought along for use in this scene are coded by colour and size, with blue being the biggest. īŧ
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 08:15 pm (UTC)There's only a superficial fight when he's dragged onto the mattress, body weak like a kitten as his limbs are shackled into their respective places and his body is displayed on its back. Yet those dark, mismatched eyes glare up with a coal of that fire still alive — and at the question, he spits at the man's face.]
cw: abuser-coded language, hahaha...
Date: 2024-07-07 08:34 pm (UTC)Still got some fight in you.
īŧ he drags the bag he'd brought along a little closer, and starts rummaging through it. alcohol swabs and cream are brought out, and cy goes over the one bloody injury he'd inflicted, ruthless in sterilizing and painting it over with a salve. he murmurs something about keeping his whore free of infection, spinning it as less about his health or safety and more about simple property damage.
next taken from the bag is one of the dildos in the mid-range, and lubricant. as he pours it along the shaft of the dildo: īŧ
It's cute. I like it. Let's hope you pass that trait down to our kids, huh?
īŧ from between sasuke's bound legs, lifted and spread by the network of ropes above them and fastened beneath his knees, cy reaches up to stroke his belly suggestively, fingers digging in against the skin, before he lets his hand slip back down to sasuke's spent cock. the silicon ring is worked gently off, and then sasuke gets an affectionate little pat to his balls: īŧ
It'll be easier on you if you relax. You gonna do that for me, or are you going to keep making me hurt you?
đ¤ĄđĻđĻ
Date: 2024-07-07 09:02 pm (UTC)The trust, however, is not — but they have worked to build a foundation over the months resilient to fear, to doubt, so that he puts himself in Cy's hands without question. Eyes follow the man's movement on the bed, knowing what is coming next and letting his expression wrinkle with a disturbance of calm.
Fingers touch him, pull off the ring, pat his balls, rub his belly with an insinuation that leaves him dizzy with desire. But his gaze never leaves the threat of the dildo, shiny from the smear of lubricant, silicone colored deep red.]
I will never surrender to you willingly, [are the hoarse words, a little slurred now from pain and pleasure alike.] I thought I'd made myself clear.
[Hurt me, the defiance in his glare suggests — and the deeper, submissive want in his heart begs.]
Do you really care? [Quieter, a murmur of low and ragged breath.] You're going to do what you want regardless. I won't demean myself for the sake of comfort.
they are Not Normal
Date: 2024-07-07 09:26 pm (UTC)īŧ there's a smile, charming but utterly devoid of emotion in the eyes as cy drops a kiss against one of his calves, and then presses the dildo in against him. the first breach of his hole is almost humiliatingly slow, waiting until his body does edge towards either relaxation or simply too near exhaustion to stay tense. it's as much about forcing the surrender, for sasuke to demean himself as it is about genuine care for his comfort. once it's made that first deep inward slide, until the base is flush against him, he proceeds to pull it back and plumb all the more deeply inward, this time forcefully and rough. he shifts so he's close enough behind sasuke to press the base of the dildo against his knee to steady it, freeing up his hands so he can pull sasuke's hips in against it, rocking against him. īŧ
Give it time. In a year you'll be begging to suck my cock for a kind word.
īŧ once he's satisfied, another hank of rope is used to sling about sasuke's hips and thighs and the crack of his ass, binding the dildo in against him with a coin knot. the ropes are tight enough to restrict bloodflow, to really dig in and hurt — but that's on purpose, because he knows sasuke's a bit slighter as a woman. not by much, but enough to make the difference.
then he slips from the bed, going to where sasuke's right hand is restrained in the cuff. he kisses his knuckles, and then forces his hand to form the sigils sasuke had taught him. this part, of course, is a bit of a fabrication — it does need sasuke's cooperation to work, as cy has no chakra to channel. but at the end of the sequence, the shift happens, and sasuke is left in his female form. cy reaches to pinch one of his nipples, hefting the breast upward by its own weight before releasing it to the plush spill across the boy's chest, and then: īŧ
How's that scepticism doing, Sasuke-chan?
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 10:10 pm (UTC)You're going to be the mother of my children. It serves a purpose — fear flashes as the toy is fastened into place, fixed so that he is unable to ignore how it feels buried in his ass. Mismatched eyes follow the man off the side of the bed, questioning, almost frantic. Not a parlor trick this time, but—
Of course it requires the bend of his chakra, the will of his own power. But the role he plays does not know that, and his horror is easy to find, because once he might have truly thought this abhorrent. Under other circumstances, in someone else's hands, he would not have wanted to be changed into a woman.]
You — bastard, [hissed behind teeth, flinching from the pinch to a sensitive nipple quick to shade cherry-red.] Stop. Undo it now. Change me back!
[It's a panicked snarl, all strength poured into the way he thrashes in his binds, yanking at the shackles regardless of the damage to skin. He is too aware of the heaviness of breasts, a tapered waist down to wider hips, restriction of rope perfectly suited for the altered anatomy. He's never transformed with something inside of his body before, but the experiment succeeds as he feels the hard wedge of the dildo still nested in his ass, unyielding.]
no subject
Date: 2024-07-07 11:24 pm (UTC)Call me whatever you want, it's a one-way ticket. No changing back.
īŧ sasuke's hair is newly made long and wild, that same beautiful ink-black shade as normal, so dark it swallows the light as cy combs it out and then begins to braid it into a sleek coil that would fall nearly to those broad hips if sasuke were to stand. īŧ
It's okay. īŧ it's soothingly said, though condescension drips from his tone. īŧ You'll get used to it.
īŧ once the plait is finished, he pulls one of those cords down from the overhead slats, winding it through his hair in a complicated twist that — while it doesn't immobilize his head, certainly cuts down on the amount of thrashing he can do. īŧ
no subject
Date: 2024-07-08 12:00 am (UTC)Another useless thrash, more like a trussed-up animal for the good it does to free him of his binds, before Sasuke falls still — frustrated, resentful.
Afraid.]
I won't, [is the hiss, voice strained and tight, its pitch not so low.] Never. I won't let you get away with it. I'll — kill you myself.
[All he has left to fight with are his words, and he won't spare them, even if they ring hollow.]
cw: now we're into piercings
Date: 2024-07-08 12:18 am (UTC)īŧ that's deliberate — the cruel misgendering only adding to the humiliation of the scene as cy leans in and kisses his forehead in a simulacrum of sweetness, before he sits back on the bed, reaching across sasuke's bound body for the bag, which he heaves up onto his midriff not entirely unlike sasuke's just a convenient staging ground for what's coming next. īŧ
Slaves wear body jewellery in their master's colours. You don't mind piercings, right?
īŧ it's said conversationally, though it's clear by the rummaging he does in the bag that he actually doesn't care about the answer or intend to give ground. at this point, it's more about instilling fear and obedience than anything else — and when he finds the piercing kit he sucks his teeth in approval. the kit is opened, single-use needles of varying gauges bare on black velvet set out for his use, and then a delicate moon-silver chain designed to affix to nipple piercings is spilled out of a little satchel. it's meant to loop once around the waist, and then trail lower to another piercing done somewhere rather more intimate. the colour he spoke of is little red gems — fake, on their budget, but real enough for the scene.
idly, he takes one of the sterilizing sheets and starts wiping down one breast, tweaking the nipple erect, rolling it between the disposable cloth fabric. a pair of piercing clamps are then affixed to it, stretching it out for a clean pierce. īŧ
I don't want to have to do this more than once — let's not fight about this, okay?
īŧ the proper gauge is selected, and then he changes his position, pinning sasuke's arm at the elbow to the bed with one knee so he well and truly has little movement allowed to him — the other, though less weight is applied than to his arm, is put against his midrift for similar reasons. he holds the clamp in one hand and tugs — the other swiftly, expertly slides the needle through the skin. īŧ
can they stop being insane for 5 seconds
Date: 2024-07-08 03:43 am (UTC)He sucks in a shaking breath as for a moment his role cracks, fissures — there's a sobbing little sound around the name, Cy, when that needle punctures tender skin. It is such brief pain, like static electricity on his nerves — just an acute starburst before fading, yet still bright enough to gleam wet in his eyes with unshed tears. The jewelry catches and hooks, glittering ruby-red in the warm light of the room.
And as soon as it's finished Sasuke is assailed by the rush of that same feeling. It is possession in practice, body given to Cy's total ownership to be changed, made pretty, wearing Cy's colors, Cy's taste, Cy's permanent mark. He would be a woman forever if Cy wanted it. He would bear as many children as Cy asked him to. He would scar and pierce any part of his flesh for Cy's satisfaction.
... None of which fits the scene, now, where he is meant to be defiant and prideful and actively unwilling. Sasuke takes another breath, aware that his inner thighs are hot and slick with the messiness of his cunt in a powerful wave of arousal he can't physically prevent — but he leans back into his role, trying to be good.]
You're awful. Deranged, [is the quiet, panting whimper as Cy continues his work, chain cool across naked skin.] S—Stop. I don't want to... do this for you. [Weakened but still trying, pulling his head even when it yanks at his scalp in a fire of discomfort.] I won't be yours. Take my body, you'll never have — anything else of mine.
all signs point to 'no'.
Date: 2024-07-08 04:13 am (UTC)then, cy moves between his thighs, pulling the bag from his midsection so he can keep an eye on sasuke's face. with the same cool efficiency as before, he begins the process of cleaning him with another of the wipes. the lion's share of his attention is to the clit itself, tugging the hood gently back with his thumb. īŧ
You think it bothers me to hear you call me deranged? Sweetheart, this is war.
īŧ a double endentre to be sure, though it's said with a smile. īŧ
The whole fucking thing's deranged. You should be grateful I'm going to use your body to create instead of destroy.
īŧ he rolls sasuke's clit between his fingers until he can trap the nerve, and then he slides the needle beneath it, through the hood of it at its base. as piercings go, the triangle is one of the better ones for increasing sexual pleasure in those with a vulva. the piercing for the last part of the chain is worked through it, and then cy gives his clit a little flick. īŧ
You've got such a pretty little cunt. And so wet — are you sure you're not into this?
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Date: 2024-07-08 04:50 am (UTC)In the end, he can't tell why or how it happens, but he's certain an orgasm crashes through him as Cy toys with his clit and slides the needle up through the hood, muscles spasming with a shock of pleasure-pain that makes him momentarily faint. The act of being pierced by Cy's hand bound up in this scene of conquering ownership — it makes him undone, braced against the immensity of sensation and biting his own lip until it bleeds to withhold the cry he wants to make.
Shaking afterward, chain jingling in a bright glimmer on his skin, he flinches at the flick to tender nerves.]
I'm not. I'm not. [Half-senseless protest babbles out of him, bitten lip giving the false appearance of a red lipstick on his mouth.] Let me go, I'll... do anything else. I'll swear loyalty to you. I'll kill for you. Just — let me go.
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Date: 2024-07-08 06:37 pm (UTC)the chain lays against sasuke's skin, gleaming as cy plucks it like a harp string, and then follows it between his thighs to his breasts. the chain is pulled taut, lifting them up by the piercings — and then he lets it drop back down. there's a shift as he crawls between sasuke's legs, one arm braced beside his head, and leans down intimately into his space, forcing a kiss that tastes of blood, rubbing against his cheek like a cat until he can whisper in his ear: īŧ
No.
īŧ his hand slips between them, trailing down against that chain like an anchor, tugging at his clit with only a little cruel insistence first — and when he gets to the boy's cunt he parts the labia with a push of his fingers until he gets to his hole, fingers slipping in easy for how wet he is. he can feel the press of the dildo that's up his ass, and pushes down against it with a thoughtful little sound. īŧ
No, the only thing for you to do from here is take what I give you. Every minute, every hour of the day — until I'm finished with you. You can fight all you want — but you should know it accomplishes nothing but getting me hard.
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Date: 2024-07-08 08:52 pm (UTC)A harsh, merciless denial. Sasuke feels his own heart pounding in his chest beneath the swell of breasts, frantic, anticipating the hand that slips down between them and unable to jolt away from cruel fingers at his clit. The area is sore where the jewelry hooks under the hood, disturbed by even the slightest movement — almost unbearably sensitive when his cunt is suddenly full of Cy's knuckles from that wet inward slide. With the toy buried in his ass, it feels like there is no room to allow anything else; the sensation of being spread open in those two separate places is utterly foreign to him. Cy nudges the dildo from within that hot interior and it makes Sasuke jerk hard at the ropes leashing him down to the bed. His mouth opens, gasping, trying to find speech.]
I'll beg you. [Bargaining still — and a willingness to strip away his pride if it means delivering him from this fate. It comes out quiet, shaken.] Anything. What do you want? Anything else.
[The threat of what has been suggested is looming closer to finality, with the man heavy on top of him, those fingers pushed up into his cunt to make it clear: he's going to be fucked until he's pregnant in this body.]
Don't do this. You won't — the power of my bloodline — you won't be able to control it.
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Date: 2024-07-09 12:21 am (UTC)Like I'm not controlling you right now?
īŧ he pulls his hand away from sasuke's cunt, and then sits back, licking his fingers clean with obvious relish, leaning on one of sasuke's bound and lifted legs with a brace of one elbow. it's so cavalier it's insulting, using him as little more than furniture. īŧ
Like I haven't controlled every aspect of this encounter from the moment you set foot on the battlefield to the moment I collared you? And you think I can't marshal children?
īŧ there's a scoff, and then a final suck of his fingers, and then he pats sasuke's thigh playfully. possessively. īŧ
The time for you to submit, be obedient, swear fealty to me in exchange for better treatment and autonomy is long, long past. You pinned your pride to victory, and you've lost. Accept it. The only thing left for you is to accept that the combination of your power and your beauty is what is keeping you alive, and to be thankful for it.
īŧ if sasuke attempts another protest from that point on, it's ignored. instead, cy starts rearranging rope-work, moving him however he wants him. he does a torso-tie that pins him to the headboard, one rope over his waist but below the chain so it won't tug at it — and another under the armpits but over his breasts. his knees are lowered, now — still tied at the ankles, but allowed to rest neutrally — if spread-eagled — against the bed.
the result is that sasuke is tied sitting, his hand left free — a clear announcement of how little threat is perceived from sasuke at the moment. once cy's satisfied with his rope work, he stretches, cracks his neck with an audible pop as he rolls out his shoulders and stands. īŧ
I don't think I'm done hurting you yet. What do you think, can you take one more thing for me, t'che serikko?
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Date: 2024-07-09 01:46 am (UTC)He watches Cy clean off wet, glistening fingers and has to swallow past the sudden thickness in his throat. And the words, heavy and final, hammering down the nails of discipline and punishment — he is pliant as he's rearranged up against the headboard, ropes constructed into new knots that hold his upper body in a new position, leaving enough freedom to give the illusion of autonomy even when it will vanish from the first test. Because it is true, and the resentment is in the downward tilt of discolored eyes, a gaze that peers out through dark lashes with a fire burning low, dull embers. Any window of opportunity he might have to beg and plead his way out of this has closed. Is there another path? Could he play into it, pretend at submissiveness and obedience, until the man's guard is down? Not right away. It would be too obvious.
He says nothing through the evisceration of hope, and only lifts his right hand to touch the collar around his throat — avoiding any other part of his body as if in rejection of its current shape. That phrase draws a sharp look, one kept insolent despite the way it curls heat low in his belly for knowledge of what it means.]
Does it matter what I choose? Whether I tell you yes or no, you'll do it anyway.
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From:'making sasuke participate in his own torment is my kink' - cy, ten k years and a half
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From:it's not a cysuke thread without cy talking sadly abt war horrors at some point tbh
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From:here there be dragons
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From:the endlessness of horny, pt8349823^2999
From:they will never stop
From:once u pop...
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From:we are cringe but we are free
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