Fuck, is this even punishment, or does he just wanna make me come? I’ll fucking come if he makes me bleed.
He drags the tip down crack, passing gently over my hole. I whimper—another fucking pathetic sound that should never come from me. My cock twitches violently with the thought of how badly this could turn out if I move at least alittle. More slickness leaks onto the wood.
He drags it slowly across hot skin. Left cheek. Crack. Hole. Right cheek. Crack. Hole. Balls.
Fucking freak.
The blade lifts. I tense, waiting for the sharp kiss of the tip somewhere again. Instead, I feel his fingers pressing into the abused flesh of my ass cheek, kneading and testing the give of the muscle beneath the bruises.
“Will you misbehave again?” Naoya-san asks. His voice is calm, conversational. The blade taps lightly against my lower back. Tap. Tap. Tap. A silent metronome against my spine. Waiting.
I swallow hard.
“Probably.”
The blade disappears and his hand replaces it, moving to the ropes at my hips, gripping the knots and flipping my whole body. The ropes pinning my legs spread-eagled tighten instantly, and my shoulders hurt with my arms forced behind my back.
Naoya-san still holds my tanto. The blade catches the light, throwing a clean line across his knuckles. Just like the day we met for the first time, he looks dark and unreal, like a spirit from another time. It sends chills down my spine.
He doesn’t look at my face. His eyes watch his own finger tracking the blade’s edge.
“Do not test me, Kaito.”
My cock pulses in the air, wet tip smearing pre-cum across my stomach. Fuck. Humiliation’s hotter than hell, but I need him to domorethan just threaten me. My body’s buzzing with so much adrenaline I feel about to explode. I need to feel that pain. I need him to make me sing—maybe even take mylast gasp. I don’t fucking care if he shoves that blade up my ass and twist,I need something.
He shifts his grip, thumb on the tsuba, blade angling down, tip hovering over my chest. Cold steel kisses my skin right above my pounding heart. I hold my breath. Fucking bastard.Do it. Cut me open. Let me bleed out on my own shitty floor.
The tip drags slowly down my chest and stops above my left nipple. The blade tip presses. Teasing. Fucking torturing. My nipple hardens under the cold touch.
“You want to feel it, don’t you?” Naoya-san’s eyes flick up to mine. “The bite of your own steel.”
“Yeah. Fucking do it, sensei.”
He smiles.
The blade lifts. Then he reverses his grip, fingers wrapping the tsuka like he’s about to stab. My heart hammers against my ribs. Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.
Instead, he brings the flat of the blade down hard against my balls.
Thwack.
Pain explodes. A gasp rips from my throat, my whole body jerking.
Insane. He’sinsane.
“Still,” he commands.
The flat slams down again on the same spot. Harder.
Thwack.
Fire spreads, my cock throbs like crazy, drooling so much it slides down to my sensitive sack. Shame burns hotter than the pain. I’m a fucking pervert too, I guess—getting off on having my nuts tortured.
Naoya-san taps the blade tip lightly against my left ball, teasing.
“Such a reactive body.”
The blade slides lower. Tip pressing into the thin skin behind my sack, right at the entrance to my ass.
