Archive of Our Own ^beta

It wasn't the first time Ren woke up in a weird place inside of a dream. If anything, he'd lately been doing that way too often. But it was off. Wrong. He knew that immediately. This wasn't his jail cell in the Velvet Room. But it wasn't a weird, ethereal place that didn't exist, either. It was real-seeming. Not a dream, if only because he felt aware that this wasn't a dream, and he never spent his dreams thinking like that. Wherever he was, it existed, at least cognitively. That didn't feel like it would help anything, though. He was dressed like he'd been pulled right out of bed.

His eyes adjusted through the darkness as lights slowly began to rise, and he realized he was somewhere familiar. He was in the Thieves Den, located in his own Palace, a place that he'd in the past had some measure of control and awareness over. He felt none of that now, and the decor that had once proudly adorned the place in celebration of his victory was gone now. The lighting was harsh and dark, chains suspended from the ceiling, bondage implements standing casually out and offering lurid views of things that made Ren pull back in surprise, stumbling away as he fell onto his ass. This didn't seem like a creation of his own at all.

"Where am I?" he asked. It was less to get an answer, and more just to try and prove he was able to speak, to hear his own voice and ground himself a little bit against the sense of unease quivering up through his body. He tried to shuffle in a direction, but his feet felt heavy, and hew felt rooted to the ground.

"You're in your own mind." The voice was cutting. Familiar. His own? No. But also yes. There was something off about it, something that brought the same strange, uncanny worries within him that hearing Arsene speak did, but this time there was a much more distinct tone of his own voice. He looked over his shoulder, but before he could even turn his head, a hand on his other shoulder turned his whole body around, jerking him the long way around to look at the same thing he was trying to look at. The sight made him fall back again. "Have you never looked in a mirror before?"

Ren stared up at himself. And yet, not at him self. The contradictions weren't getting any easier to overcome as he stared up at the figure in a long leather jacket. It was Ren as he looked in the Cognitive World, but also not quite. His face was different, the eyes behind his mask red and trailing with fiery light like Arsene's, his mouth in a twisted smirk that Ren himself would never have worn. He stood more frightening, cutting a figure unlike anything Ren felt he could cut. Was he taller? Was he bigger? So many little pieces seemed to be just a little wrong or off the mark.

The second Ren strode forward, his boots loud against the floor as nothing else moved. Tucking a pair of fingers under the real Ren's chin, he guided his gaze up to look at him. "Are you me?" Ren asked. His breath grew tighter. He wasn't sure what any of this was. Was this his mind? Was this a cognitive version of himself?

"I used to be." That helped none of this. His fingers caressed under Ren's chin. "Did I get stronger? Or did you get weaker? We used to be the same. I think it's your fault that we aren't." The touch ran up along Ren's cheek, teasing him, drawing out the motion in condescension, before he brought the fingers down to Ren's lips, caressing along them and parting them gently. "From now on, I'm Joker."

This didn't make a lot of sense to Ren, his head spinning as he looked up at Joker. He was never well versed enough in the workings of the cognitive world to understand this, and Morgana wasn't here to explain this. His mouth opened, and the gloved fingers pushed in. He didn't know what to do about it, staring up at him as the push forward made his body tighten, the taste of leather on his tongue and the gesture of weird submission leaving him with a lot to be concerned about here. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why wasn't he standing up and pushing Joker back?

"That's what I thought," Joker said. "Don't worry. I'll give you what you want."

The fingers withdrew from Ren's mouth, and he was about to ask what Joker was talking about, but he was suddenly upside-down. He didn't remain upside-down, but the warping of reality and the room around him disoriented him further, as if he wasn't quite out of it enough already. He was somewhere else in his palace now, standing with his feet on the ground again, but not quite steady. He was in his school uniform all of a sudden, glasses and all, but everything was astray. His jacket was unbuttoned, shirt tugged up over his body, his fly undone and his pants tugged down a bit. His cock was out, half-hard. But most compromisingly, he was in handcuffs.

Joker gripped the chain of the cuffs and used it for leverage as he walked Ren forward, the low and open pants making his steps clumsy. "You're going to enjoy this," he said, leading him over to the table where Ren usually played Tycoon with cognitive versions of his friends. At least, he thought it was; it was tough to say. Ren just felt it was likely that Joker wasn't looking to play cards. "I don't think you even know what you are inside. But I'm going to show you. It's what will make me stronger."

Ren went over the table, shoved down onto it as hands reached about behind him. His pants had to come down lower, down over his cheeks. The leather gloves groping and grabbing at him as they spread him open was a bizarre sensation, so cold and loveless, but not as cold and loveless as the slender vibrator that penetrated him, dripping in ample amounts of lube, and Ren had no idea where it came from or how it was so slick, but absolutely none of that mattered. All that mattered was the hot, aching rush of noise that spilled from his lips.

The toy buzzed inside of him, and Ren tried to make sense of it, staring dizzily forward as he felt the growing worries rush through him. He wanted to say something, but only indecent sound spilled from his lips. His head rolled back, and the confusion grow. "I want this?" he asked.

"I knew I was everything strong in you, but this is embarrassment." Joker pushed the toy in further with a confident ease and a readiness that made Ren shift more fitfully. "If you can't handle even this, you're going to have a lot of trouble with what's coming." He rolled Ren onto his back just as quickly, leaving the toy inside of him but preying on something else entirely. He dragged Ren further up along the table, reaching a hand up his shirt in the process and exposing more of his chest. "I'll do the thinking for you from now on."

"Please, what is this?" Ren asked. But he got no answer. Instead, he got another vibrator. This time, a vibrating cock ring that Joker clasped down onto the base of Ren's dick, not too tight to keep his orgasms off, which was maybe going to come back to haunt him. The spike of more pleasure hit him hard, made hi buck into the air as he struggled under even more sensation now.

Joker ignored that, bringing a glove to his lip and biting the tip, tugging his hand slowly back. One of the red gloves hung out of his mouth as he leaned up over his 'true' self, hooking a now-bared thumb into his mouth as he took the glove with his other hand, carefully studied his response, and struck him across the chest with it. Even flexible and soft, the leather struck down with enough force and insistence to make Ren hiss, even if it wasn't going to do much damage, and Joker's dark smile only grew. Another strike to his chest, and he pushed his thumb in deeper, tugging the corner of his cheek out a bit further.

There was no answer coming for what was going on. Joker didn't need to explain to Ren what he was or how the shadow had become so powerful that he was committing a vulgar mutiny over his body and mind, that a schism had grown in the real Ren and a cognitive version of himself fed into by his own self-perceptions, but with an alter ego who committed acts that emboldened and strengthened it beyond even the shadow versions of the nefarious men he'd fought. Joker knew that such an explanation would only distract from what was most important: forcing Ren to submit and become his toy.

Even if the glove wasn't going to do any permanent harm, it still left Ren's skin red and sore as the strikes up and down his chest struck him. His eyes couldn't pull away from Joker's as he stared up at him, as he felt the confusion and the worry grow deeper inside of him. He felt powerless, cuffed and stuffed with toys, getting roughed up by an imaginary version of himself, and his cock ached with a desperate hunger so primal and so hopeless that he couldn't deal with nay of it. He was stuck here on this table, hips rocking up into the air and embracing a deeper, hopeless 'appreciation' of what took him by storm.

"I don't expect this to be simple," Joker continued. "This will take time. But I do expect that you will behave and obey." He stuffed the glove into Ren's mouth, a sloppy makeshift gag that filled his mouth with the taste of leather, and with his hands free, he could drag Ren around again. He pulled him off of the table, grip tight in his hair and on his cock, with sharp tugs at his scalp and steady strokes to wring out the drooling pre-cum that foretold Ren's growing dizziness and frustration, a confusion that he was stuck with. Joker pulled Ren back against his chest, and Ren could feel the little things. How he was just a bit taller, a bit broader. A bit more intimidatingly everything Ren imagined himself being as a Phantom Thief, embodied and ready to be used against him.

The grind of his ass back against Joker's clothed lap wasn't intentional. A result of just how fitful and confused his body was. But it had the same effect as a willing, flirtatious gesture, teasing against him and bringing Joker a wicked, low rumble of delight and amusement. The hardening cock pressed against Ren, and offered its wicked, foreboding promise. One Ren wasn't sure he was strong enough to fight, as the purposeful strokes along his cock grew quicker and more ready. "We have such a nice cock," Joker growled into his ear. "It's a shame you won't be using it much anymore, but you'll get to feel every inch of it paying you back, whenever you want."

Confusion abounded, and Ren let out more noises of aroused bafflement and baffled arousal, hips succumbing between the vibrator in his ass, the vibrator around his base, the hand on his cock... Probably even the raw terror of how he didn't understand this situation. So many things conspired all at once to bring Ren to a state of panic and frustration more overbearing than he was built to handle. He gave up to all of it, his cock erupting all over the table as Joker's hand kept stroking, trying to milk every drop he could out of hi, pushing his limits and demanding more from Ren than he was built to handle.

The low rumble in his ear made things even worse. "Good boy." It was sharp and condescending, and it made Ren's knees weak.

The room flipped again. Not as drastically, this time, but Ren was suddenly on his knees and facing toward Joker. A minor change, but one that brought him face to face with his shadow, reaching for his pants and slowly pushing them down while pulling his cock out, bringing it across Ren's face in a hard, almost vindictive slap. It wasn't harsh, but it was enough to make Ren spit out the glove, as if by mental compulsion. "This isn't happening," Ren said. It didn't help him much.

"Yes, it is. You've lost control of your own Palace. You got too strong. So strong that your strength split off from you entirely. And now, you're going to be something else." Joker seized Ren's hair and pulled him toward his cock, and for all of his confused attempts to be stronger and refuse, he pushed forward, opening his mouth for the big dick just as he had for the fingers, taking it in and accepting the hard treatment awaiting him.

Joker didn't leave anything about this blowjob in Ren's hands. Understanding just how inexperienced his 'true' self was, the shadow took charge of this whole treatment, gripping his hair and tugging him down onto his cock, guiding him through giving him the first of what would be many, many blowjobs. Ren went forward, although the grip in his hair formed a good, sturdy bit of leverage, a convenient handle to keep him stuck and dragged in deep, accepting with confused and reluctant panic that he was powerless now. The harsh back and forth had only one driving force behind it, only one driven, inspired need, and Ren was powerless against everything to follow as he struggled to make sense now of these emotions.

With the toys still up his ass and around his cock, a panicked edge of weird, dizzy hunger carried Ren forward, kept him off his balance, nervous, frustrated by what eh felt and by the ways he struggled to make sense of all these weird, wild emotions. Too much happened all too quickly for him, but his lips wrapped around the big cock and sucked on it anyway, submitting to his shadow. An ache inside of him felt ready for this, welcoming the lust and nudging him harder toward this submission. The flickering warmth of some deep, aching desire within Ren had him ready to accept it, no matter how bizarre or scandalous this was. A part of him felt like this really was where he belonged.

As if knowing that, Joker groaned, "Doesn't this feel amazing? It must be so natural for you. You never realized you wanted this, but you can't fight it now, can you?" His firmer grip left Ren with more questions. "Keep going. The further down you go, the better you'll feel. You'll admit in time this is what you crave, and you can leave everything important to me." The words were oddly reassuring to Ren; he didn't understand them at all, didn't know how a shadow would be able to do anything, and had ample reason to not trust Joker at all. But it spoke to the part of him inside that felt oddly ready for it, felt welcoming to the idea that what he really needed was to keep submitting, to fall deeper and steadier into desire.

Ren's response was only to suck. The more he blew his shadow, the more ready he was to keep going, his cock throbbing under the excitement of servicing Joker, treating him to emotions he didn't feel like he was strong enough to mentally process, but he kept on giving up to it, kept pushing harder into passion and desire as he did his part to give up to this all. A lot happened, and all of it proved so quick and so messy that he didn't know what to say or how to respond to it, falling further into the confusion, into the compromising hunger of letting go. His body knew how Joker would jerk him back and forth, and he leaned into it, not quite alleviating the pressure on his calp with each tug at his hair, but cooperating. Letting it happen. Accepting it.

Joker offered no warning that he was going to cum. No moment where anything seemed the least bit sensible about this, but the very instant that he flooded Ren's mouth with his seed, Ren lost himself, too. He came all over Joker's boots, struggling to handle the weird pressures and the flares of confusion washing across him, wondering what to say or how to deal with this, as he stared up at Joker, felt the cock slide out of his mouth. "You're a natural," Joker said, and dragged Ren back toward the table.

Not to push him on top of it, though. He held Ren knelt over it as he lifted a foot up, brought his boot onto the table with Ren's cum on the top. Ren stared down at it, certain he knew where this was going, but aflame with disbelief. "You can't be--"

"Clean it," Joker snarled.

The sharp order pushed Ren down. Not the hand in his hair. Just the words alone. Ren shoved down and began to lick his own cum off of Joker's boot, wondering what had come over him, but knowing he was powerless against whatever it was.

But in a flash, that all broke away. The sound of Ren's alarm forced him into consciousness, made him stumble his way up, gasping as he found himself in the attic 'bedroom' again. Jolting upright, he looked around him, saw everything like it was supposed to be. His phone buzzed by the bed, and he fumbled to reach for it, only to feel a tightness in his chest as he shifted. His skin felt sore where it had no reason to, and he tugged his shirt up in confusion, only to behold the sight of red strike marks all along his chest, just where Joker had struck him with his glove.

No.

No, that couldn't have happened. Maybe Ren had a rash from seeing Tae the other day; she said that was a symptom to watch out for. This was nothing at all. Just an insane dream.
************************************
He was back in the Thieves' Den again that night.

Ren was in his street clothes this time, but his shirt was torn up the front and his pants had been tugged down to bunch around his ankles, as he woke up in a precarious position he absolutely did not remember being put into. He was on his knees in front of a big, blocky box of some kind, his arms tugged behind him and his wrists shackled down to it. A collar around his neck attached to a leash also rooted into the table, keeping him firmly in place there with little room to move. But perhaps the most worrisome part was that he could feel something pressing against his ass. A dildo of some kind, awaiting penetration.

"Hello."

The second Joker spoke, the machine turned on. Things inside of the box started working immediately, the dildo shoving into Ren's ass, making him how and jerk forward, thrusting with hopeless, pointless motion as the fucking machine he was strapped to did its part.

"Not again," Ren groaned. He sucked down nervous breaths as the steady pumping into his ass hit him. The vibrator inside of him last night had been a lot, but it had stayed mostly still outside of its buzzing. This gave him a proper fucking, and he wasn't sure he could handle that, as Joker strode up toward him. "Why am I dreaming this?"

"You still think this is a dream?" Joker asked. He caressed Ren's cheek and ran his hand through his hair with pity and delight. The cryptic remark didn't go anywhere, didn't lead to anything to follow. That was agony, as Ren felt the dildo keep hammering away at him, fucking him with wild panic and a worry that continued to push against him, made him struggle under something that kept hitting him, kept pushing him. Nothing about this made sense, and the thick dildo pounding into him didn't help, but with his wrists bound to the machine, he didn't have a good way to pull back from it or do anything to mitigate these issues.

As Ren got fucked by the machine, the shifting presence from the shadows began to change and move about. Ren saw figures approach, and the weird, nasty warning that came with that left him even more confused. Siegfried. Oni. Koumokuten. These were his Personas. Fused or bargained with, these were the beings inside of his mind, and now, they watched him get railed by a fucking machine, drawing slowly closer. They were part of him, amid the scores of beings he could call upon. And they watched him. They stood there, and they did nothing.

"Help me," he said.

"You don't give the orders," Joker snarled, twisting his grip in Ren's hair. "You still don't understand what's happening here. It's embarrassing." With his grip remaining tight, his gaze fell upon the Personas. "Who wants him first?"

In seconds, a huge, red cock was pushing against Ren's face. Oni stood there, ready and greedy, forcing himself forward. Ren's mouth didn't fight it, opening up and accepting the hard slam forward, as Oni fucked his mouth with careless, feverish strokes. Joker let go of his hair and gave Oni full reign to fuck him however he wanted, and Ren was stuck there, throat stuffed full as the wild slams down proved as venomous and as brutal as could be. No time to think clearly, no way to respond to what was happening. Just heat.

Oni, true to his arcana as a persona of Strength, was harsh and truly powerful. His wild slams forward left no restraint or sense behind this treatment; everything he did was forward, wild, as greedy and as hungry as could be, subjecting Ren to the heat and the brutality of a fever he had no idea how to handle. Sucking Joker's cock the night had before had been a lot, but Joker had been downright gentle by comparison to this, leaving him dizzy and hopeless, the hunger rising as the precarious and confused position he was stuck in left him awash in confusion.

Nothing about this treatment gave Ren a moment of calm or security. He was stuck twisting under the weight of these feelings and worries, stuck taking the brutal slams forward of Oni's cock down his throat spit bubbling around his lips as he struggled to deal with all of this. It was raw, it was overbearing, and it left him with questions and frustrations aplenty, nervous pulses aching through him as he gave in to this. The compliment of the fucking machine pounding him and hitting him just right while he sucked off Oni was a bizarre, compromising mix of emotions that he didn't understand how to deal with, fumbling through the chance to fight these all off and keeping his struggles hot and senseless.

The continued frustration and bafflement of what he gave up to was something so helpless and so ragged that Ren didn't understand it. He was confused beyond sense, struggles deepening as he took the brutal slams harder, choking on the cock while he got fucked, cock dripping in helpless surrender and a devotion so potent and so aimless that he couldn't keep his head on straight. He needed to understanding something, but all his thoughts understood was the cloying desire to submit. As long as he was stuck in that state, nothing would shake him, and he was doomed to keep sinking, keep losing ground.

The orgasm that the machine funked to wasn't one that he was proud of. It came on with even more embarrassment than the one he'd had to lick off of Joker's boot, as the machine whined and churned away at his ass, fucking him through his release as he moaned around Oni's cock, the trembling embarrassment of how hard he lost it all leaving him with a million questions. Ren didn't understand how to control his wild descent, but as Oni came down his throat, it didn't matter. He was drinking it down, struggling under the shame of swallowing the shadow's cum and accepting that yes, this overbearing beast truly was in control of him now.

Oni drew back, spit dripping off of his cock. "Get better," he said, wiping his dick off on Ren's cheek and stalking away with clumsy, heavy footsteps.

Ren sucked down nervous gasps of air as he looked up at Joker, speechless in the face of such bizarre treatment, not sure in any way how to answer this mess of a treatment, but as he gave in deeper to all of these compromising flares of passion, he felt ready for it, embracing the worry and the heat surging across him. He came again, the steady fucking leaving his body sensitive and helpless, due for another crash as he let out a wild holler of ecstasy.

"Feels good, doesn't it? To be a helpless animal, cumming your brains out constantly?" Joker dragged his thumb along Ren's lips a moment, pulling his tongue out and admiring how much cum wasn't in his mouth. "Good boy. You drank it all up without having to be told. You're learning to accept your desires."

This was still a baffled madness to Ren, who looked up at Joker wondering how this could happen. How he was this weak. "Why do they listen to you?'

"We're the same. I'm just better." Joker looked toward the other two Personas. "Koumokuten, Siegfried. He's all yours."

Two hands seized Ren by the hair. Two huge cocks shoved into his face, and still tied up and unable to respond, Ren was powerless against the harsh and rough treatment now inevitable upon him. He wasn't prepared to deal with any of this, a mess of emotions and desperations coming on with fire and demanding heat to push him over the edge, to test his limits through and through. Both Koumokuten and Siegfried shoved forward, their cocks prodding against his face, rubbing and imposing their humiliating pressures. All Ren could do was take it.

They took turns fucking his mouth. They were just as rough as Oni was, but with two of them to keep him awash in drunken panic and confusion, the pressures were so much worse. Ren tried to make sense of this as he took their roughness, wondered how to handle the brutality of their cocks ramming into his mouth and demanding so much from him that he wasn't equipped to meet, but he lost more and more ground to this all as he fumbled through it, aimless and delirious and aflame with so much panic that he couldn't handle it. He choked on each dick as it rammed down his gullet, and on each pull back, he was greeted with the sight of them covered in his spit, heavy strands of throat slop showing off just how much he was putting into this.

It was a weird anchor he almost needed in a way, as he drunkenly fumbled through these deeper confusions, wondering how to control himself and wondering what he could possibly say in response to all of this. Their roughness didn't let up, the harsh and vindictive treatment driven forward by singular intent and a harshness built on something that he was powerless to fight. So much happened so fast, and Ren had no choice but to take it, getting facefucked by the Personas that were supposed to be listening to him. Who were, in some way, still listening to 'him'. Joker stood there as a cold and harsh dom, watching Ren get taken as the fucking machine kept him worn down from behind and the thrusts into his mouth added on to the chaos.

Ren came again. The two Personas fucking him didn't even pay mind to his erupting cock, focused on using him for their own indulgences and writing off everything happening to him as they kept up their harsh and feral pace. Nothing was going to save Ren now from this utter confusion, from desperate swells of panic and heat driving him harder over the edge. The overbearing passion and pressures rushing through him wouldn't let up, and the disorienting haze of trying to make sense obit was something Ren had less and less of an answer for with each stroke of the hips pounding forward. Nothing to save Ren from this surrender, nothing to keep him from submitting deeper to this mess. It was too much, and he felt weak against this, powerless and falling ever lower through the spectacle and panic of getting used through and through.

Taking their cum and struggling to keep his head on straight, Ren struggled under the dizzy rush of panic washing over him as, amid their hard groans and slams forward of powerful hips, both of them came all over his face, splattering cum up across his glasses and his features, leaving him ragged and dripping as he begged for air, their grips lingering in his hair a bit longer before finally letting go and allowing him to experience absolutely no comfort or calm. Instead, Ren came again, whimpering as he loosed another load and expressed just how completely gone he was. His hips bucked forward, pumping into the air but always shoving back against that fucking machine and its unyielding thrusts.

His breath grew tighter, ragged and helpless, tongue trailing along his lips. There was so much cum there, and the taste of it felt like an odd reassurance to him as he looked up at Joker. He felt pathetic. Worn down. Completely devoid of control or composure or the sense he needed to hold onto a respectable amount of control over this mess.

"Didn't that feel good?" Joker asked, his fingers seizing Ren's chin, tilting his head back so that he didn’t only look at Joker, but looked right up at Joker. Looked at him like a helpless man beholding a god.

The shaky confession came out before Ren could stop it. "Yes," he confessed, and his dream unraveled around him once more.

This time, Ren woke up with an acute awareness he'd blown loads all night in his sleep, his body exhausted before the day had even begun, his balls drained. He hadn't touched anything. He even sniffed his hands; they were fine. But his body had responded to these dreams. To these things that, just maybe, were more real than he was willing to accept.
***************************
"Please, let me cum!" Ren whined. He wasn't even tied up as he lay on the table, lying pathetic and helpless there while Joker reamed him, folding his true self in half with his legs up over his shoulders. Ren's cock throbbed in desperate need in Joker's hand, but it didn't get stroked, didn't get any affection. A glove separated them and their needs, kept a firm layer of isolation and emotional distance to keep Ren from getting too wound up over anything he felt.

Joker's thrusts were an erratic mess of things meant to push Ren's buttons and make him fail at keeping his head on straight, to a degree that proved more infuriating with each pass. Sometimes, it was brutal, shameless fucking, making Ren howl in delight as he got filled by the big cock and used with a thorough intensity that made last night's fucking machine adventure seem like it was nothing, bringing him the warmth and the satisfaction he needed to understand and to deal with these stray feelings and their overbearing passions. But in a flash, it was different all over again: slow, careful, grinding out the most agonizingly patient of treatments he could muster.

All to keep Ren from fucking. Joker's pace worked around the needs of his victim by ignoring them entirely. He made sure Ren didn't come with these start-stop approaches, sometimes even pulling out of Ren's ass to avoid letting him feel the push into ecstasy he needed. But each time he pulled out, Ren felt the deepest expression of just how much of a fucking wreck he was, because Joker was still cumming inside of him. Creampie after creampie into his needy ass left Ren full and warm and awash with emotions so hopeless and so baffled that he didn't understand them. His hips writhed under the worry, and he felt drunk on the confused hungers that kept him under.

Within the twisted temporal emptiness of Ren's Palace, and with Joker's absolute control now over it, they could fuck all night. Inexhaustible and feverish, Joker didn't hold back the feral and brutal thrill of fucking Ren into submission again and again, wearing his thoughts down and reducing him to a wreck of need who pleaded to be allowed to cum, denied orgasm while getting filled with persistent fever. Nothing slowed Joker down. Nothing could. He was king of this cognitive world, and the product of his mutiny lay desperate and babbling before him. All Joker offered were occasional remarks. He called him pathetic. Called him helpless. He said that this was all he deserved, and he fucked him through every second of this passion while denying him everything.

Last night, Ren came too much. Fucked to the brink so many times he felt drained and embarrassed when he woke up. Now, he stewed in his own pent up and denied arousal, left aching for more than he was getting and begging for the freedom that Joker so happily denied him while reaping for himself again and again.

When Ren woke up, it was with his cock desperate and helpless. Rolling onto his side and aching in embarrassment, he jerked himself off, groaning into a pillow as he took care of his urges, hips naturally rising off of the bed and gesturing out to the air as if hoping that Joker would manifest in his room and take him right there.
****************************
Ren should not have fallen asleep in class. There were a few good, normal reasons for that, but the big one was that, as he drifted into his sleep, Ren found himself once more in his Palace, getting lifted up into the air by arms. Big arms. Strong arms. A lot of them, too, as Ren shivered and stumbled about, looking down at the green seizing him. Hecatoncheir had taken initiative, and was now aggressively tearing off Ren's clothes, stripping him with a speed and a fever that he felt he had no choice but to accept, as the grip tightened and continued in the rough and raw fever that Ren knew wasn't worth fighting

Hecatoncheir didn't justify his actions, didn't explain them. He just slammed Ren down onto his cock, forced his way in and made the one he had made his pact with go limp atop him. Was Ren even the one anymore? He'd lost control of the personas inside of him, completely helpless now under the confusion and the worry that washed up through him. Joker called the shots. Joker probably told Hecatoncheir to do this. It didn't matter; Ren was stuffed full of dick and held aloft in the many arms of a powerful shadow how took great delight in using his body with reckless abandon. Primal slams upward filled him, pounded into him, demanded from Ren so much more than he felt able to deal with, a struggle rising through him.

The fact that he had gone through his morning with a clumsy need for sex did no favours to Ren as Hecatoncheir brutalized him harder and messier. He treated Ren like a cocksleeve, using his body with the most callous fever and aggression he could, and every step of the way, Ren fell deeper. His cock ached in desperate, throbbing delight, meeting the demands of Hecatoncheir's roughness and begging for more, thrashing against him while needy pleas of pleasure-drunk heat spilled from his lips.

"Please touch my cock," he whined. Hecatoncheir's hands were all over him. On his hips, his waist, his legs, his arms... But his cock hung in desperate, neglected panic, begging for strokes and begging for affection. After a night of having his ass pounded, was the idea of a handjob so wrong? Ren's hopeless needs were simple and straightforward enough, and he didn't need much, but he definitely needed to feel something, desperate for Hecatoncheir go give him that bare minimum. "Please. Please, just touch my cock. Stroke it. That's not a lot."

Ren didn't get that. He got worse. Rather than cum, he got nudged out of his sleep. Ann poked him, whispering, "Wake up. Ren, please." Ren's head rose up off of the desk and he looked around. The entire class, as well Mr. Inui, stared at him with some individual blend of surprise, disgust, or mockery. This wasn't the look anyone got for napping in class.

"Ann, was I--"

"Loudly," Ann said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Ren said. He kept his head down and tried to avoid everyone’s gaze as class resumed, albeit with everybody now much less eager to spend any time near the guy who yelled about handjobs during his nap.
*******************************
Mara's tentacles probed deep into Ren as he hung in the air, stripped down to tatters of his school uniform in his latest nighttime visit to his own mind. Another Persona, another mutiny in the darkness, as the thick and versatile tendrils pressed against him. "It's so deep," Ren whined, jaw trembling as the cock pushed in so far into him, reaching parts of him even Joker's cock couldn't find, and he found herself utterly unable to grasp the finer points of that treatment. The idea that such a phallic shadow could, in turn, have tentacles that looked exactly like big, green dicks, was a sick joke that Ren wasn't sure what to make of.

But it felt fucking incredible.

Jerking along two more of the tentacles, he pursued as much indulgence as he could get, head swinging back and forth in wild appreciation, kissing them and savouring the hopeless fever and the desperate joy of letting himself fall ever lower into oblivion. Mara let out noises that fed his dizzy, delirious surrender, and Ren needed more of it, moaning louder and greedier under this joy. He didn't know if Joker was watching, but if he was, this was a sight to behold. Ren's surrender was getting more drastic, more forward and firm with each step into madness he took. The delirium had him in a fitful bout of insanity, and Ren didn't understand how these feelings were able to hit him quite so strongly, but he was certain he wanted more of it.

It had only been a few days since Ren was strapped down and getting his mouth fucked while wishing he could draw back. Now, he was happily jerking off Mara's tentacles, licking them, letting the deep slams into his ass keep him giving in. There was no way for him to resist the messy heat and fever keeping him going, the messes quivering across his thoughts. Hs cock was a dripping, begging mess, pre-cum oozing onto the floor as the suspension of all sense and surrender coming on messier. The joy of having the tentacle fuck its way into him and bring him down lower, induce the most intoxicating and potent of desires. Everything Ren did felt like surrender, felt like acceptance.

The shameful part of giving in like this was that Ren knew on some level it was a bad idea. Knew it was going to be his unraveling. Joker had said so many things he didn't funny understand about how he 'truly' was and what he deserved. None of them registered on any level he could grasp as he got fucked harder and rougher, twisting under the delirium and the fever of this treatment, owning his deepest desires and falling into a dizzy throb of pleasure and passion so raw that he didn't consider the ways in which this could have been wrong.

With each passing night, he fell further into this wickedness, gave up more and more to the idea of letting himself go, and it was rapidly becoming an untenable situation he was too week to fight, unable to resist the idea that all he really wanted was to give up. He came several times while Mara fucked him deep, hitting sensitive spots he didn't know he had until the tentacle laid waste to him, and Ren was powerless against the depravities in his own mind, cumming his brains out and feeling the overbearing overstimulation push his limits further. "Cum in me," he pleaded, staring down at the big cock monster and simply not having the presence of mind any longer to care about how over the top he was in his surrender.

Fortunately for Ren, Mara was ready to give him something to break down over, and the wilds rush of hopeless panic proved as delirious and as wicked as anything Ren could have ever expected. With bizarre, wheezing noises, Mara filled Ren up with not cum, like he expected, but something significantly more overwhelming. Eggs. A viscous, gooey clutch of eggs all pumping into Ren's ass, making him howl and thrash under the confusion of just how much filled him, able to feel out the certain solidity of certain things that flooded him, and he didn't understand any of it.

But he came hard, and as Mara put him to the floor and pulled out of him, Ren was left twitching and twisting on all fours, eggs slowly dripping out of his ass as the clutch Mara filled him with came back out. Sensations beyond anything decent or sane left Ren with a million questions and no time at all to think about them. The sensation of eggs leaking out of him was a whole lot more depraved than cum leaking out of him, and he felt needy, aching for more touch, on the verge of cumming.

"This is what I knew you were," Joker said, emerging from the shadows and standing over Ren. "Pathetic. Hopeless. So desperate for dick that you're going crawling off for more before you even have your breath back."

Ren looked up at Joker, jaw trembling, his cravings getting the better of him in a way he didn't understand. But he was grabbing Joker's leg and hip, tugging himself forward and clinging to him. He clutched the nearest limb and began to grind himself onto Joker's boot, whining, "Please fuck me," as he expressed just how hopelessly he had fallen, eyes cross and eggs still sluicing out of him.

"It can't be that easy," Joker snarled. He grabbed Ren by the throat and forced him off, dragging him up to his feet, even though Ren's legs were so limp that he could barely hold himself together, leading to Joker choking him as he held him in place. "If you want my cock, you can live your truth."

The dream broke apart again, but this time, on a riddle.
*************************
Was living his truth getting spitroasted over a garbage can behind a back alley gun shop? Ren wasn't sure of that in the slightest bit, but there he was, a pair of strangers' cocks pounding into his holes. He'd stopped by Iwai's shop to stock up for an upcoming palace trip, but along the way, a pair of men caught his eye. Or rather, he caught theirs, and impulse carried him forward, accepting something he shouldn't have accepted, letting them drag him around back and quite forcefully tug his clothes out of the way. It happened so quickly that he didn't really know what most of it was, but he found himself wanting it, whatever it was.

The roughness pounding into him at either end brought on a harsh lesson that Ren had absolutely no way to prepare for or deal with at all, struggling to keep himself together. They weren't as strong or as brutal as shadows, but that was in a Palace. This was real reality, his pants around his knees, the sounds of the city only as short peek beyond, a risk of getting caught. This wasn't with anything living in his head, this was with real people. Real people whose hands held tightly onto him. The man fucking his mouth called him a slut, and it just hit differently than anything else he was doing or giving in to.

If this was living his truth, then Ren lived it hard. With hopeless, frenzied motions of his hips back and forth, he pursued all of these feelings with little restraint or understanding of what was happening here. He let these men fuck him, let himself succumb to strangers' cocks and the raw submission that burned through his body now. Ren understood that there was no coming back from this; everything he’d done in the past was tucked away in his mind, inconsequential. NO matter how much it was bleeding into reality he could argue against it and keep strong. There was a lot happening and all of it tore his dignity apart, left it in tatters. And yet he didn't care, shoving back and forth to meet both men's thrusts as hard as he could.

This was wrong. This was bad. This was incredible. Ren cared less and less about how steeply he fell from grace, pursuing only the frantic push into chaos and hunger that kept him burning up. The rapturous need and the desire he found in getting callously used was a push into mad depravity that felt like everything he wanted, and he let the pressures wear him down, eroding his dignity and his self-control further, leaving only the withered, senseless need within his body now to get dominated. Was this what Joker wanted? Would this satisfy his desires? Was getting fucked by these men what Ren had to do to get the dick he craved?

The realization that he was doing all of this just to have more sex left him even more ashamed, but shame had become a motivator and nothing else. He jerked wildly back and forth, hastening his descent and throwing himself into passions he didn't care about holding back from in the least. There was no reason to. No need. Just surrender. Just the hopeless crash into joy beyond reason that now consumed Ren so thoroughly that he didn't understand ow to handle any of it. There was no holding back, no resisting these imposing, demanding swells. He crashed. It was all he was good for.

The men used him up. Filled him with cum amid tugs at his hair and his hips. They groaned, heaved, said more profane words. Ren's glasses were askew on his face. He was a disaster, but a disaster so hopeless that all he could do was embrace it. He came hard onto the ground, and as the men pulled away, his hand went to his dick, jerking himself off and asking, "Come back, fuck me again." They laughed at him and left him there to stew in the hopeless realization that he was too far gone now to have a prayer of finding dignity again.

Joker had better give him what eh wanted tonight, as he jerked himself off to an even more embarrassing orgasm in the alley by himself, ass leaking with cum, his hopeless needs out of control.
*********************************
"Good boy."

Ren entered the world with fingers tucked under his chin. He was on his knees, not wearing casual clothes or his uniform this time. Just a collar. Joker held the leash, and kept his watchful gaze firm and unyielding upon Ren.

"You did exactly what I wanted you to do. Do you know what you're a slave to?"

"My desires?" Ren asked. He was broken. Worn down. He'd lost all sense and focus, and his eyes struggled to look up at Joker's eyes rather than down toward his lap, amid the hopeless needs inside of him.

"Close," Joker said. His laughter wasn't the sound of joy, but the sound of vicious disrespect. As Ren's eyes began to stray, he tugged at his chin and tilted his head back, forced Ren to look him in the eye. "You're a slave to me. You needed this. You adopted a mask and pretended to be something you weren't, and you made me too strong that you couldn't possibly live up to me. So instead, you can be ruled by me, and I'll do the work you've become too weak and slutty to finish."

Ren was being told in no uncertain terms that only humiliation and subservience awaited. That he was to submit and surrender. It was wrong, it was insane. His lips parted and his hands crept up Joker's legs, reaching for his pants. "Does that mean I can..." He was too far gone to care. He'd tried to earn this, and now, all he wanted weas to give up to it, a broken, addicted mess craving the cock of his own shadow. His better. The dominant, idealized version of himself who reached out and took charge in all the ways Ren absolutely never had a prayer of doing. Ren's will had been broken. Joker's was stronger than ever. How else could Ren understand this?

"Yes, you can," Joker said. "You have permission to worship my cock. Prove how far you've come."

Permission was all Ren needed. His hands fumbled up higher, grabbing Joker's belt and undoing it, his hands moving to tug his pants down, to get them around his knees and to get at what he craved. Everything that he had been waiting for was finally here for him, every little bit of deranged heat and depraved fever finding a groove he could embrace at long last, and Ren didn't need anything else to carry him forward. He tugged the pants down, grabbed Joker's half-flaccid cock and began to kiss it to life in hopeless displays of adoration. His reverence was absolute now.

"It hasn't even been that long since you last had it," rumbled Joker. "How can you already be this desperate?"

Ren didn't answer, instead showing off the depths of his need as his embarrassing fever continued. His tongue dragged and slithered along the long shaft, which hardened in his grasp as he chased the panics further along, wondering how to keep himself together as all control melted away. Ren was unable to deal with how sorely he needed to submit, and the second Joker's cock was at full mast, he sucked it in deep, throwing himself into the chaos and the panic of every hunger that ripped across his thoughts. Fire would consume him if he kept going, but he wanted to burn.

Getting the cock into his mouth and shoving his way down, Ren didn't mind choking himself on the huge dick, didn't mind the hopeless hunger and surrender of showing just how badly he craved this. His head jerked back and forth with all the fever and the passion he could muster, hoping he could match a self-inflicted pace as raw as what had been done to his mouth already. Ren needed to serve, and every step he took, every drip of spit from his lips down his chin, was an attempt to praise and worship Joker like he deserved. Only through that complete desperation could he prove how badly he needed to give in.

Joker remained a stoic and steady presence over Ren as he watched the hopelessly sloppy adoration. Ren was a disaster of hunger and greed now, and it felt like utter ecstasy to stand over him in victory, to let Ren work at his cock without a shred of reason or control, just desperate to keep giving in and not caring about what he had to do to get there. He'd won, and Ren was happy to praise him for his victory with as much hopeless, winding passion as he could give, falling deeper down and surrendering to these feelings that took him by storm. There was nothing Joker could have wanted more.

Pulling back from the cock briefly to breathe, Ren didn't slow down. He grabbed the dick, pumping along it with hopeless adoration as he pushed forward. Flurries of licks and kisses kept the oral focus high as he prostrated himself for his own shadow. "Thank you," he whined, pushing forward, desperate and hopeless and unable to control himself. There was nothing he needed more than to give in, his submission raw and deep and completely divorced from reason. Everything Ren could do, he did, and there felt like nothing but utter satisfaction now in giving up to all of it.

Ren knew his place. Joker shifted a boot between his legs, and he pressed against it, rutting on it like a dog in heat, totally divorced from reason and knowing that whatever wicked fate awaited him, it was what he craved. He needed it, grinding his cock on the boot in a show of adoration while he choked the cock back down again. It was all he wanted. All he could fathom. Every motion of his head rocking back and forth expressed his hopeless desires, and Ren knew he was in the position he needed to be in, knew that everything he desired was plain before him now.

"Good boy," Joker groaned, finger tracing along the collar, caressing along his neck. It reached for the back of his head, and with a hard, sudden tug, he slammed him down, forced every inch of his cock past his lips as he gave Ren the messy throatpie that he needed. Ren held firm even as he struggled and shivered under the weirdness that hit him. As Joker came down his throat, he came all over Joker's boot, clinging to his leg and holding it like a lover, eyes watering as he held down his cock, not fighting the hand on the back of his head. He was ready to obey. Ready to be anything that Joker wanted him to be.

Joker was the better. Joker would take care of things. All Ren had to do was pay him the praise he so rightfully deserved, and maybe take care of the restless monsters in his head. They deserved their reward, too.
*******************************
The Phantom Thieves crossed the threshold and entered the Cognitive World. Another infiltration, another job. Ren had done the legwork to set things up, and everyone was ready for a normal push into the Palace, a totally ordinary heist.

But nothing was ordinary. Joker was there, but so was Ren. Tow separate people, and there were questions. A lot of questions that only deepened as they realized Joker looked taller and that his eyes glowed a fiery, billowing red. And then those questions all died on the vine as Joker seized Ren by the hair, bent him forward, and slammed his cock into him.

Ren's devotion was absolute, and to prove that, as well as the fact a new Joker was in charge, Ren agreed the only reasonable option was to let his friends watch his shadow obliterate him, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he got fucked raw. Giving control over was everything he wanted, and he was happy to let go now. Happy to become the oversexed mess that would work in support of the real hero. When all his strength left him and split off into its own being of pure power, all that was left was need, and whatever lingering traces of anything else were left, Joker had already long fucked out of him.

And now, his friends knew it, too.