NINETH KNOT #4
Naoya-san goes behind me and I think he’s tugging on the ropes again, because suddenly my whole body is shifting, rising.
My arms strain for a second before the tension redistributes and suddenly I’m upright again, hanging vertically, legs still spread, the rope biting into my thighs in a way that feels sharper now.
Gravity pulls differently like this. It makes my body ache in new places, makes it harder to breathe, harder to think, and I can feel my hole gaping wide, trying to close around nothing.
But I can see around again like this, and I see the whole crowd, dozens of faces. Curious. Spent. Jerking.
Watching me.
Naoya-san’s hand brushes my inner thigh on the way to the thin red rope still coiled around my cock and balls. He handles it with care, untying each loop and twist slowly.
The moment the last loop loosens, my hips jolt forward without meaning to. My body is so sore it flinches away from the air, a broken sound escaping from my throat, and Naoya-san’s hand is there instantly, palming my cock, just resting over it, warm and dry and steady.
He strokes over my skin once, a small gesture, then he moves up.
His fingers find the clamps still attached to my nipples, and even though they’ve been on for what feels like forever, I barely feel them anymore.
Until they come off.
“Fuck—” I grunt, chest twisting up as blood rushes back into the skin like fire. It burns enough that I feel tears spring to my eyes, my whole chest tingling.
The gag comes off next. His fingers reach behind my head, loosening the straps, and then the ring slips out of my mouth. My jaw falls slack, and I close it slowly. It aches like hell. I roll it once and groan.
Then, unexpectedly, Naoya-san leans in and kisses me.
But it’s not like the other times. Not like in the quiet warmth of his studio, when he unties me after a session and presses a slow, dry kiss to my mouth like he’s afraid I might dissolve under his lips.
This one isn’t that.
His mouth lands on mine, and there’s nothing soft about it. It’s heat and pressure and possession, screaming to the whole goddamn world “this is mine”. His tongue pushes in, slides slowly against mine, and I moan into it without shame.
My jaw’s still sore from the gag, but I let him devour my mouth anyways, because fuck if I’d ever pull away. My arms don’t even twitch in the ropes—too weak, too gone—but if I could move, I’d hold him there and let him feed on me, piece by piece.
He pulls back, eyes locked on mine.
Then his hand finds the rope pulley again. One more pull and my body shifts backward a little, still suspended, but now leaning slightly, tilting into a different balance. Just enough that I feel every knot, every pressure point, every inch of rope still holding me open and exposed.
He touches my face again and kisses my cheek, then the corner of my jaw.
Then lower, down my neck, where teeth and lips had been earlier.
Over my collarbone, my sternum, and down the middle of my chest where a set of sharp nails left angry, jagged trails.
I barely hold in the hiss when his tongue brushes where the clamps were, breath hot over the soreness, licking gently like he’s trying to erase the bite of pain left behind.
He does the same to the other side, slower there.
Then he gets to my belly.
There’s a mess there too—welts, scratches, smudges of spit and lube and sweat—and his lips still move gently.
He kisses my cock too, softly, at the base, where the rope had bitten in for too long.
Doesn’t stroke, doesn’t suck, just presses his lips there like an apology.
Then my thighs. One, then the other. Right over the red, rope-pressed skin that still pulses like it’s lit from inside.
It feels like balm and it feels like ownership and it feels like fucking care, and that’s the part that gets me most.
And then he stands.
“You behaved well,” he says quietly, and fuck, my whole goddamn body lights up. “I’m proud of you.”
Then he does something simple that makes my cock twitch immediately. The match to the gasoline.
He unbuttons his pants right there in front of me, and pulls his dick out.
My whole goddamn body lights up like a fuse just hit the end. Suspended open, with nowhere to go and nothing to do but take it.
And fuck me, fuck me—
He’s so hard. Thick, flushed and dark. His cock curves up from his open pants and I can’t stop staring.
My body jerks in the ropes without thinking, helpless.
My breath catches in my throat like it’s been knocked there.
I’ve been touched by so many tonight—used, stretched, filled—but nothing compares to this.
To him.
My mouth waters, and I know I’d be drooling all over myself if I still had the gag in my mouth. So I swallow hard, trying not to come like a loser from only watching. But the truth is I want to bite him. Lick him. Fucking crawl inside his skin and let him fuck my core.
Naoya-san steps in closer, and his cock brushes against my belly.
I grunt, hips twitching as much as the rope will allow.
My legs are trembling from the strain of being kept wide open for so long, but all I can focus on is the way his heat drags over mine, the way his thighs press between mine, like he lets his cock slide against mine for a moment, pre-cum mixing.
“You’ve been patient.”
Then he takes my hips in both hands, the tip of his cock teasing my well-used hole before he pushes in.
I choke on my own breath.
I’m not surprised when he’s not gentle. Naoya-san can look composed, but by the way he looks, I know he’s as desperate as I’m.
This isn’t lovemaking; it’s an assertion of his dominance, a fucking that’s as raw as it is exhilarating.
It’s not gentle, nor is it cruel—it’s simply Naoya-san taking what’s his.
And when he bottoms out, when he’s deep and thick inside me, I feel it everywhere.
I growl and moan and make all kinds of disgusting sounds. No matter how many hands touched me tonight, how many mouths sucked me, how many cocks stretched my hole until it was gaping and loose, this is the part they’ll never fucking have.
I groan, hips twitching in their binds, arms straining without movement. The room spins, and all I can focus on is the delicious agony of his cock claiming me.
He pulls out almost entirely before slamming back in, and I moan, throwing my head back. I feel his mouth in my neck, sucking hard while he fucks faster.
“You’re so beautiful like this, Kaito,” he says against the sweaty skin of my neck. “So used and so completely mine.”
His hips rock in a steady rhythm, filling me up, stretching me open, and I can’t help but moan, my body turned on like never before, despite the ache. I feel so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet, so powerful because he’s the one in control and I’m the one who chose to belong to him.
He keeps kissing my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, and I can feel the hunger in his touch, the way he wants to devour me whole. His hand slides down my chest, tweaking my nipples before moving lower to wrap around my cock. He jerks me off, his grip firm and sure.