Chapter Text
The sun conveniently shines on the bed, enveloping both in a comforting warmth. It's happening today. After a reasonable amount of deliberation between Makoto and Kyoko, they're doing it. Well, she's doing it to him. That's a more accurate way to describe it.
He's getting pegged. Kyoko asked him that one day, via a very awful joke. Well, the joke sucked, but it was still a nice way to make up for what happened before. If only he remembered to remind her... But that's all sand under the bridge now. He's heard of the concept. To have your partner put on a strap-on and anally penetrate you. It's never really appealed to him that much, but when Kyoko mentioned it, it did speak to him a little. They've tested the waters a few times by having her finger him, and it turns out he doesn't hate it. In fact, he actually rather likes it. It feels surprisingly good.
He has had a very thorough enema before all of this. If it went well, his insides should be cleaned out well. Should make for a smooth experience.
...And of course, Kyoko is initiating. She's pinning him to the bed, clinkling the grey sheets. Hooking her right arm behind his back and her left arm behind his head, she presses her mouth against his hard, her tongue unrelenting. It's always a good time when she gets aggressive like this. Somehow, it feels like she's being gentle at the same time. He likes that. It makes him feel appreciated, even if a little.
The foreplay eventually comes to an end, as Kyoko equips herself with a strapon. A black one, made out of silicone. The length rivals his own member, which somehow makes him a little jealous... Oh yeah, both parties are also buck-naked, save for the obvious boy-breaking tool Kyoko currently has equipped. "Turn around, get on all fours," she says. And, well, what other choice does he have? He, of course, does as she says.
He instinctively braces himself for the sensation he's about to feel. The opening of a cap is heard, followed by... Well, first the stuff inside hitting the floor. "Whoops," Kyoko says, "I accidentally spilled some on the floor." And THEN, the immediate feeling of Kyoko's gloved finger inside of him. Which is subsequently joined by another. It leaves his behind feeling a little sore, but he doesn't hate it. His cock throbs painfully. He'd rather have her proceed to the action.
But the few minutes Kyoko spends loosening up his ass will prove to be worth it, he thinks. From behind, Kyoko ruffles his hair. It's a little clumsier than usual. Likely a combination of her performing the action from a distance, and her not using her dominant right hand. He assumes that hand is currently drenched, rendering it unwise to ruffle anyone's hair with it. "Are you ready, Makoto?" she asks, awaiting a response.
He doesn't look behind him, but he says "Yes," with clear enthusiasm, "I'm ready, Kyoko. You can... You can go ahead if you want," he adds, showing his clear desire for her to just move on and show him a good time.
"You're impatient," she says, giggling adorably. "I'll forgive you this time," she says, giggling in a way Makoto can't help but feel is... somewhat ominous. He grips the sheets in anticipation and preparation. He can hear - and feel - the mattress shift under Kyoko's weight. She puts her left hand on his ass, that feeling joined by a certain silicone object coming in contact with his sphincter. He does his best to relax.
That foreign object gently pushes itself further inside. Makoto fights the urge to push it out, letting her go further in. "Ngh..." he groans at the feeling. That thing's thick... And it kind of hurts, yet somehow, it leaves him wanting more. It's very much unlike her fingers. Maybe because it's shaped like a penis. The thought somehow makes his own throb painfully, wishing to somehow become even harder. That feeling is soon joined by her right hand placing itself on his hip. It's considerably less dry than her left hand, dripping with lube.
She pushes further and further in, until...! "Ngh...?" he moans in confusion. That was...!
"Did I find the sweet spot...?" she asks teasingly. "Perhaps if I..." she says, pulling back, and striking that same spot again with a little more force.
"Nnn...!" he moans again. That felt... "Haa...!" Another strike. Kyoko's strokes start attaining a slow, consistent pace. "HaaAAaa... K-Kyoko...!"
"Oh, does that feel good?" she asks, increasing her pace.
"Y-YeEs! Thatfeels... It'sgoOD...!" he slurs. God, feel good, she asks. Is this a joke? If his wide open mouth and unusually loud moans aren't already tipping her off... This feels incredible! This is bliss! He's not usually one to be vocal in bed, but with something like this, he... he can't help himself! His mind goes blank as her thrusts accelerate. Her grip on his hips tightens. So does his grip on the sheets. He buries his face in the sheets, wanting more of it. His cock throbs painfully, precum leaking out of it.
He can't handle it for much longer, though, as he feels something approaching. "Ghh... GhaAAaa...!!!" he yells, droll dribbling down his chin, soaking the sheets below him. And judging by the feeling of release, it's not just the drool.
Kyoko's thrusts stop, and eventually his ass feels emptier thanks to the absence of the rod inside of him. "Did you come?" she asks, her voice gentle.
"Kyoko," he laughs, "Look under me. Do you notice anything?" he asks, his voice breathy. He only notices now how sweaty he is. The audible rustling of the sheets proves she heeds his question, "What do you think?"
"You're right," she says matter-of-factly. "Your come has stained the sheets. I guess I should've put a towel there. That's a lack of foresight on my part."
"Wow. Kyoko making a mistake?" Makoto quips, sitting down on his now somewhat sore butt, taking care to avoid the white blob he's guilty of leaving behind, "Who woulda-"
"I'm just as human as you, just so you know. By the way," she asks, her voice teasing, "I'm not satisfied just yet. Hearing you moan and whimper under me is pretty hot. Music to my ears, you might say," she says, smirking, "Why don't we have another go at this sometime soon?"
"Uhh..." he hesitates, scratching his cheek, "I don't know, Kyoko. I mean, it was fun," he laughs, "and somehow I feel like I COULD go again, but I...Nah, not now," he says. "Another time."
Her glare doesn't get colder, but she does squint a little. "Makoto, I really want to go again. If you can go again, when why not? That felt good, didn't it?" she asks, looking at him with the clear hopes of him providing a yes as an answer.
"Yes," he says, satisfying her on that front. It's the honest truth, so that helps. "But, I..." he looks away, "Not now."
Kyoko gets off the bed, and heads to the bathroom. WIth enough time, she returns with a towel. She lays it precisely over the spot where he came, nullifying any threat of it getting on her. She gets on the bed, the rod on her strapon flopping slightly in a fashion that, while he finds it hot, also feels a little ominous. She gets on all fours, crawling up to him, her legs going over the towel. His back is up against the backside of the bed, his legs are spread slightly. "Makoto. I really, really want to do it again. Please?" she asks.
"Kyoko," he says, his voice a little stern, "No. I don't want to-"
"I guess..." she trails off. Before he could react, she quickly gives him a kiss on the lips, forcing her tongue inside while he's caught off-guard. His eyes go wide at the sudden sensation of Kyoko's tongue violently thrashing about in his mouth. Instinctively, he pushes her off, leaving a trail of saliva that's quickly broken, falling to his chin and neck.
"Kyoko, what the...!" he says, "I- What are you... D-Do you even know what "no" means at this point?" he says angrily. He points at her, "You went too far there! Too far- OW!"
He's interrupted by a sudden, jarring surge of pain in his cheek. He looks at Kyoko, who's having her right arm cast out into his general direction. "K-Kyoko, what are you-"
"You will let me have another go," she says, glaring at him viciously. She grips his shoulders. "Now, hold still, or-"
"N-No...? Kyoko, seriously, stop this- GYAH!"
Another, more intense surge of pain courses through his cheek, Kyoko once again being the culprit. His face is forced to the side from the power of Kyoko's slap.
"Shut up, Makoto," she says, her voice cold yet boiling. "You will let me have another go. Now..." she says, grabbing at his legs, and forcing them upward. Makoto flails them about, to little effect. He looks around, looking for any potential routes or blunt objects to exploit. "Stop struggling. Or do you want another slap to the cheek?" she asks. "Maybe I should go further than that-"
"N-No!" he pleads in panic, tears forming in his eyes. "S-Seriously, stop! I don't wanna do this!"
"I do!" she says angrily. "And if you're not gonna-"
"L-Let go of me!" he says, trying to fight off her hands keeping his legs in place. He aims the rod attached to her strapon at his ass, Makoto watching with eyes that are about to turn red from the tears. His brain is short-circuiting. He's desperately trying to think of a solution. But... What CAN he do? What can he do?
In his panic, he vaguely remembers a trick a character in... some TV drama he can't remember now pulled off. Perhaps... It's his last hope at this point.
"K-Kyoko, listen. I think that, uhh... You know, maybe you should just..." he stammers, trying to get her attention. He tries his best to not look around. "L-Look! I'm not gonna go and say that you can't have what you want, but... c-can't we just... agree on a c-c-compromise, and-"
Using her attention towards what he's trying to say to his advantage, he uses all his strength to throw his legs to the left side, escaping Kyoko's grasp. His feet quickly hit the floor, and he makes use of that fact to get off and grab his phone from the nightstand. He bumps it with his hip, but he ignores it as he runs and runs before Kyoko can do anything.
Sadly, she's quick on her legs, as she follows his route. She throws her legs off the bed, taking chase after him... only to then nearly slip on the lube she spilled on the floor, buying him just enough time to run to the door, open it, and get out of there. He doesn't even think about it. He runs to the nearby bathroom, recognisable by the green indicator on it, showing that it's unoccupied. He violently throws the door open, Kyoko running behind him and nearly catching up to him. She barely reaches out to him before he enters the bathroom, and throws it closed as hard as he can, away from her grasp. He then, with a shaking hand, turns the lock.
He breathes violently, the adrenaline settling down. The white light, refracted by the white tiles, is blinding, but also comforting. He's escaped her grasp for now... He looks at his phone. Fully charged. Good. Good good good. He can hear footsteps behind him. They're walking away from him, downstairs. The panic sets in again. She's... She's gonna get a knife to turn the lock from the other side! Desperately thinking of a solution, he tries to look for something he can use to block the handle. He looks around, finding nothing. Except...!
He pulls the washing machine away from the wall. He reaches behind the washing machine, taking care not to touch the backside. He carefully pulls the plug so that his arm doesn't recoil onto the backside. And now, he pulls the whole thing fully away from the wall, pushing it to the door. He finds, sadly, that it just BARELY doesn't fit. Crap, crap.
That's right! He can just turn it over. He carefully pulls one of the sides of the washing machine towards him, taking care not to let it drop. Once it's on the ground, he pushes it to the door, only to find that it's not long enough now. Whatever, at least he could find something to shove under the handle now. Roughly eyeballing it, he should need about thirty centimetres worth of stuff.
He figures it's easy. He can just reach up to a drawer on the wall with a bunch of towels in it. He accidentally bought a little too many towels one day, so... who'd know it'd pay off someday? He grabs them, and hurriedly tries to worm them under the doorhandle. He then tests it. Try as he might, he can't get it to open. Good. Good good good good good. He's safe, he's safe. He looks at his phone. 9月7日, or September 7. It's 15:23.
He hears footsteps behind him, approaching him this time. Looks like she came back. He braces himself. Will this work? As expected, he hears the clicking of the lock. She COULD open the door now... if it wasn't for the things blocking the doorhandle. And, indeed, it barely budges. He watches as she attempts the fruitless endeavor a few times, before stopping. "Makoto. Open up," she commands.
He doesn't know what to say.
"If you don't open up, you can expect a fierce punishment. Open. Up."
He doesn't budge. She knocks on the door. "OPEN. UP. Makoto. It's just another round. You can handle this. Come on. Just one more round. No more."
"Kyoko," he says, feeling the need to respond to that, "I just don't wanna, okay? Can this really not wait?"
"It can't."
"Why?"
"Because..." she seems to try and come up with something, but he can't know for sure. "I just can't. I need to do it again. Now open up."
He doesn't answer. She bangs against the door. "Open up."
Kyoko continues wasting her time with him. Eventually, her knocking and threatening stops. Makoto lets out a massive sigh, shifting on the floor. He looks at his phone. 19:38. And the boredom has set in a little. So, deciding to do something while he waits for a good opportunity to get out of there, he texts his second-favourite person on the planet.
...second favourite? No, that doesn't sound right. Kyoko... He's not sure about her being his favourite. Not after this. She went too far. Way too far. She actively ignored what he was trying to tell her. That... That definitely is not the Kyoko he knew and loved. Actually. he could say that about her for quite a while, now that he thinks about it. She really did used to be different. Loathe as he is to admit it, she was different in a good way. Something about her felt a little less... suffocating. Compared to now.
His mind drifts to that one comment Mukuro made, when he shared his story about Kyoko slapping him, and how strongly she reacted. Was she right, perhaps...? Well, Kyoko DID apologise, but... He doesn't feel like mulling over that thought now. He decides to just text her.
'Hi, Mukuro.' he types in. Short and sweet. And, of course, she replies pretty quickly.
'sup bitch'
'how u doin'
He laughs. She definitely has a way with words. If she wanted to, she could woo anyone she wanted with her charms. ...That's mostly a sarcastic comment, but he can't help but feel weirdly about it.
'I'm not doing well.'
'huh'
'that sucks'
'kyoko being a bithc?'
He thinks over that statement for a little, before settling on his message,
'You could say that.'