EIGHTH KNOT #4
They press right against my prostate, a bolt of electric pleasure so intense it whites out my vision for a second. It’s agony and ecstasy mixed into a single, overwhelming sensation that has my whole body seizing against the ropes.
“There it is.” His fingers don’t let up, working me open, pressing and massaging that bundle of nerves until my thighs are trembling. “This is what you needed. To be opened up and taken apart and, later, taken care of. Your body already knows.”
His fingers work me open good, scissoring slightly. I arch my back, trying to get away from the intensity—trying to fuck back onto his hand, really—but the ropes biting into my skin keep holding me perfectly in place for his torture.
“Your body doesn’t lie. It melts under my hand, even when it bleeds.”
“Naoya—” It comes out strangled.
Pain radiates up my spine, but underneath it—fuck!—his thumb pads rub circles over my prostate, sending jolts of filthy pleasure straight to my dick.
He adds a third finger, and the burn is immediate. I hiss, biting down hard on my lower lip until I taste my blood.
“Nao-san,” I rasp, the name scraping raw. “Please…”
“Please what?” He stills his fingers inside me. “Use your words, Kaito. What do you want?”
Shame coils hot in my gut, mixing with the desperate, aching need for more. More pain. More violation. More him.
And still, I can’t really say it. Because it’s not just a “fuck me” that I want to say—that part’s easy. What I want to say sounds a lot like surrender and I don’t surrender.
Naoya-san slides his fingers out slowly, the drag over the cut making me hiss. The sudden emptiness is a fucking insult. I clench down instinctively, my hole pulsing around nothing. Pathetic.
“It’s fine if you are not ready to say it yet,” he says, his thumb tracing the slick, bloody mess around my asshole. He lifts his glistening fingers to my mouth.
Well, fuck pride. I can’t say shit, but I can do this.
I suck his fingers deep into my mouth, tongue lapping at the bitter tang of blood, pre-cum, and my own fucking asshole.
He leans a little more between my legs to force his fingers deep into my mouth and I feel his cock pressing against me, hard beneath his pants.
The fabric’s damp where it rubs my skin.
He’s gonna fuck me, I suddenly realize.
Naoya-san’s gonna fuck me.
He pulls his fingers out of my mouth, leaving spit-slick trails down my chin, then grabs his belt buckle. He shoves his trousers and underwear down just enough to free his cock, and there it is.
It’s the first time I’ve seen it, even after all this shit.
I don’t know what the hell I expected. He’s lean everywhere, clean, put together like one of those quiet bastards you’d never even expect to know how to cum—but this…
Hell, I don’t know. It’s not some pretty-boy cock, but it fits him in a way.
The shaft’s pale, like the rest of him, flushed dark—still a hard fucking contrast against the thick, purple head and the darker sack beneath, framed by a neat patch of black hair.
He leans forward, bracing himself on one hand beside my shoulder. His other hand wraps around his cock, guiding the thick head to my hole. He rubs it against me, smearing pre-cum over the cut. The sting makes me hiss, but the pressure feels fucking good.
“Ready for this?”
If I’m ready for this?
“Fuck yes!”
He pushes slowly, the broad head stretching my rim wide. The burn is intense, sharpened by the cut. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to relax, but my hole fights it, clenching tight. Naoya-san doesn’t stop. He pushes deeper, inch by inch, filling me.
“Fuck—” I gasp. “Fuck, fuck—”
“Relax, Kaito. Breathe. Or it will just hurt without the reward.”
Bullshit. The hurt is the reward and he knows that about me.
I clench more, because apparently my body likes to fight back and make shit worse. A fucking masochist. But I can’t even help it when it feels this good.
“Breathe,” he murmurs again, buried balls-deep in my ass. His hand slides down my chest, soft fingers playing with my nipple. “Don’t fight me.”
I force air into my lungs. Fuck relaxing. I want him to move.
“Stop talking and just fuck me.”
He chuckles, and pinches my nipple hard. White heat shoots straight to my cock.
“Patience,” he says, rolling his hips, the head of his cock grinding against my prostate. I moan. “See? You need this. Slow and good.”
“Need you to move.”
He pulls out slowly—agonizingly slow. I gasp, hips lifting, chasing the fullness.
But then he thrusts back in, bottoming out in one careless shove.
Yes! It hurts, but it’s not like he’s rough for real, not some cheap street fuck like Ryo.
Naoya-san moves with a fucking calm precision, the same way when he’s tying a knot.
And that’s how he sets a rhythm—deep, but slow, driving strokes that hammer my prostate with every thrust. Fuck, it’s perfect.
“Fuck—touch me, sensei,” I demand, voice cracking. “Come on—”
“Earn it.” His hand clamps my hip, fingers digging.
“Just do it!”
“Just do it?” He slows, grinding deep.
“Just fucking touch me,” I beg, hating myself. “I’m so fucking close—”
He slaps my cock with the flat of his hand. Fuck!
“Not yet. You still haven’t earned it.”
He shifts above me, and for a hopeful second, I think he’ll finally give me the rough fuck I’m screaming for just to make me beg. But no—he leans back instead, his cock still buried balls-deep in my ass, and takes the tanto again, laying the flat of the blade against my sternum.
“Since you are so impatient for sensation, let’s give you something to feel.”
He rotates the blade, the sharp tip now resting just below my collarbone. He doesn’t press much, but he lets the potential of it sink into me, a far more effective restraint than any rope. My heart hammers against my ribs.
“Now let’s see if we can find your patience,” Naoya-san says, his free hand drifting down my stomach, past my aching, neglected cock. His fingers cup my balls with a sickening tenderness that clashes with the weapon on my chest. “It must be hiding somewhere, hm?”
He moves the blade lower, tracing the ridge of my hip bone, dragging across the bruise he left earlier. Then lower still—down the crease of my thigh until it’s resting against my nuts. My breath turns ragged. Every muscle locks tight. He’s gonna—
I jerk.
“Shit—fuck! Fuck!”
Fear coils cold in my gut. Real, ice-cold fucking fear. And my dick’s never been harder in my life.
Because he could slit my ballsack open if he wanted. And the sick fucker in me wants it. Wants the hot rush of blood, the singing trapped in my throat. Wants him to ruin me the same way I like to ruin others.
He hooks the tanto’s tip under my balls, like he’s weighing them, then drags the blunt edge up, stretching them taut. I feel his cock throbbing inside my ass. Fucking freak!
“Look down, Kaito.”
I look down to see my cock throbbing, the dark cockhead leaking so much pre-cum it’s like I’m cumming non-stop. Then I see the blood smeared on it. Blood on my cock. Blood on my nuts. Blood on my chest.
“Fu—Hngh!”
A white-hot surge rips up my spine, tears through my gut, and explodes out my fucking cock. Cum shoots out of me—thick ropes hitting my belly and chest, all over the blood. Uncontrollable. Violent. My hips buck, fucking empty air while Naoya-san’s cock sits dead inside my hole. No thrust. No grind.
It feels more frustrating than good—over too fucking fast, leaving me panting, shaking, and soaked in my own fucking mess.
“Shit,” I gasp, my breath sawing in my throat. My cock twitches weakly, spitting the last drops onto the mess cooling on my skin. Shame burns hot behind my eyes. My fucking pathetic dick came like some virgin boy seeing boobs for the first time.
Naoya-san lets out a soft, low hum, almost amused. He lifts the blade away from my balls, tapping the flat edge on my spent cock once, twice.
“I knew you’d enjoy it. But I didn’t expect you to enjoy it this much.”
His cock, still heavy inside me, pulls out almost all the way. For a split second, there’s only a pulsing emptiness. Then he rams back into me.
A ragged sound rips out of my throat. My oversensitive body screams, every nerve alight, raw and protesting. The pleasure is gone, burned away by my own violent climax, leaving only an overwhelming sensitivity.
“Nao-san—!” I choke out, but it dissolves into a moan.