The address Yuki had given me was in a part of town I only ever ran through—one of those quiet, manicured neighborhoods where the houses hid behind high privacy walls and the air itself seemed cleaner, more expensive. The confrontation with Tachibana Miki had left me simmering, a low boil of contempt that my run here had only stoked, not soothed. A sheen of sweat coated my body, the salty tang of exertion a perfume of my power. My gym clothes, still damp from my earlier soccer match, clung to my skin. I was a primal, sweaty beast stalking through a porcelain dollhouse, and the contrast was delicious.
My mind wasn't on the architecture. It was on the memory of Yuki's photo, the promise in her eyes, the thought of stretching her tight, willing holes until she was screaming my name. My cock, which had been a persistent ache all afternoon, gave a hard throb against the fabric of my shorts. I wanted to wreck her. I wanted to dismantle her piece by piece and rebuild her as something that existed only for my pleasure.
I found the house, an imposing modern structure of glass and dark wood, and located the intercom box by the gate. I pressed the button, a satisfyingly solid red circle. A moment later, a speaker crackled to life.
"Who is it?" Yuki's voice, filtered and distant.
A predatory smile stretched my lips. "It's the demolition service," I purred into the speaker. "I received a call about a property in dire need of a complete and thorough wrecking. I believe the owner's name was Yuki?"
A breathless chuckle came through the speaker. "Come in. The property is… eager for your attention."
The gate buzzed and swung silently open. The simple, flirty exchange sent a jolt of raw electricity through me, my cock swelling to painful hardness. The short walk up the stone path to the front door felt like an eternity. My heart hammered against my ribs, a brutal percussion of anticipation. This wasn't just about sex. This was a claiming.
I knocked once. The door swung open almost immediately. Yuki stood there, looking me up and down, her eyes widening as she took in my disheveled state—the school uniform top, the gym shorts I'd thrown on underneath, my damp skin, and the wild look in my eyes.
"You… just came from school?" she asked, a note of genuine shock in her voice.
"Senior year," I said, stepping past her into the grand, minimalist foyer. "Turned eighteen over the summer. You're safe from any seduction charges." I looked around the vast, impersonal space. It was beautiful, expensive, and as sterile as a museum. "Though I might press some of my own."
Yuki laughed, a bright, genuine sound that echoed in the cavernous room. "Fine, fine. I'm twenty-three. We're only five years apart." She closed the door behind me. "Nice place," I said, my eyes sweeping over the floating staircase and polished concrete floors. "Now, about that wrecking… I'd like to begin immediately."
The bulge in my shorts was impossible to miss now. It strained against the fabric, a declaration of intent.
Yuki's gaze dropped to it, and a slow, wicked smile spread across her face. "Straight to work, are we? I want a little foreplay this time, Akira-chan. Here, you can take off your bag. I'll put it away for you."
I chuckled, a low, humorless sound. "No. You can't lift it. Show me where to put it."
Her brow furrowed. "Don't be silly. I can lift a school backpack. I'm stronger than I look."
"I'm not saying you're weak, Yuki. I'm telling you that you cannot lift my backpack," I said, my tone flat and final. "You will hurt yourself."
Her competitive spirit, the same one I'd seen last night, flared in her eyes. "Let me try."
I sighed. It was a scene I was tired of playing. I took off my backpack, the straps groaning under the strain, and set it on the polished floor with a heavy, definitive thud. "There's over a hundred kilograms of weight in there. Don't say I didn't warn you."
She looked from me to the bag, disbelief warring with determination on her face. "No way. You carry it like it's nothing." She bent down, grabbing the straps.
A sudden, nasty little idea bloomed in my mind. "Wait," I said, stopping her. "Let's make this interesting."
She straightened up, a smirk replacing her surprise. "Okay. If you're telling the truth, if there's really that much weight in there… I'm yours for the entire night. Anything you want. You can use anything in this house to play with me. No limits, unless I use my safeword." Her eyes gleamed. "But if you're lying… you become my dildo for the next two days. Blindfolded. No touching yourself. You only get to come if I feel like riding you long enough to make it happen."
My eyebrows shot up. She was upping the ante herself. I stepped forward, closing the space between us until our lips were almost touching, my voice dropping to a low, dark promise. "Deal. But be careful what you wish for, Yuki. My terms are always harsher." I saw a shiver run through her. I stepped back. "Well? Check it."
She bent her knees, took a firm grip, and heaved. A strangled grunt escaped her lips. The bag didn't move. Not a millimeter. She tried again, her face flushing a deep red with effort. "What the fuck is in this?!" she gasped, utterly defeated.
I squatted down and unzipped the main compartment, a triumphant smile on my face. One by one, I pulled out the contents. My bento box. My textbooks. Then the weights. Eight twenty-pound soft weights, and then the solid fifty-pound iron block I used as a base. I laid them all out on her pristine floor.
"One hundred and five kilos," I said, standing up and looking down at her. "And that's just what I carry to school. My morning run has more." I loomed over her. "Looks like I win."
The shock on her face was a delicious appetizer. It slowly morphed into something else—awe, fear, and a burning, desperate arousal. "You… you weren't lying about anything," she whispered. "You really are a monster."
"And you, my dear, are all mine for the night." I repacked my bag, hoisted it effortlessly, and placed it in the front closet she indicated. When I turned back, I didn't wait. I stalked towards her, backing her against a wall.
"Before we begin," I murmured, my voice a low growl. "You're going to do something for me. I'm sweaty. I'm dirty from the city. I need to be cleaned." I ran a hand down my abdomen, over the hard ridges of my abs. "And you're going to clean me. With your tongue."
Her eyes went wide, her mouth falling open slightly. The command hung in the air between us, a stark declaration of the new reality of our dynamic.
"Everywhere," I continued, my voice dropping even lower. "You will lick every drop of sweat from my skin. You will taste my power. You will worship this body before you are allowed the privilege of being broken by it. Get on your knees."
She didn't hesitate. She sank to the floor before me, her eyes locked on mine, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within them. She looked like a supplicant before a fearsome, ancient goddess.
"Start with my feet," I commanded, placing one bare foot on her shoulder.
She leaned forward, her movements hesitant at first, then surer. Her small, hot tongue darted out, tracing the arch of my foot. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pure power. She licked her way up my calf, over the dense, powerful muscle there, her tongue working diligently to erase the grime and taste the salt of my skin. She cleaned my other leg with the same devotion, her pigtails brushing against my thighs.
"Good girl," I praised, my voice thick with arousal. My cock was a ramrod, pressing insistently against the front of my shorts. "Now the rest."
I pulled my shirt off over my head, leaving me in just my sports bra and shorts. She crawled forward, her gaze reverent as she began her work on my torso. Her tongue traced the deep cuts of my obliques, lapped at the valley between my abdominal muscles. The feeling of her hot, wet mouth on my skin, tasting the evidence of my physical superiority, was more intoxicating than any drug. This was true submission. This was worship.
I made her lick my arms, paying special attention to my biceps. She licked the sweat from my armpits, breathing in my animal musk, her eyes half-lidded with a mixture of revulsion and ecstasy. This was degradation. This was adoration. I was her god, and this was her communion.
Finally, she knelt before me, looking up, her face flushed, her lips glistening with my sweat. "Am I clean, Akira-sama?" she whispered, using the honorific for the first time. It sent a shiver of pleasure straight to my groin.
"Almost." I peeled off my sweaty shorts and sports bra, standing before her completely naked. My cock was fully, brutally erect, slick with a bead of pre-cum. "Finish the job."
She took my heavy balls into her mouth, her tongue laving them with a practiced skill that made my knees weak. Then, she took my shaft, slowly, reverently, cleaning it from base to tip, her throat working to accommodate my thickness. She didn't stop until I was gleaming, my flesh pulsing in her mouth. I pulled her off me just before I lost control.
"Now," I said, my voice a ragged growl. "Now you have earned the right to be my toy."
I followed her through the house, my eyes feasting on the sway of her hips. The house was a shell, but her bedroom, filled with anime figures and colorful posters, was a glimpse into her soul. It was… cute. A strange island of innocence in the woman who had just licked me clean.
Then she showed me the basement.
The door opened into a BDSM dungeon that would make a Marquis blush. A St. Andrew's cross, a sybian, slings, cages, cabinets full of whips and paddles and toys of every conceivable shape and size. My mouth went dry. She had made the bet knowing this was here. She wanted this. She wanted to be pushed, to be broken, to be utterly annihilated. And I was more than happy to oblige.
I turned to her, a slow, predatory smile spreading across my face. "You little minx," I whispered, closing the distance between us. I captured her lips in a brutal, possessive kiss, my tongue plundering her mouth. She moaned, her arms wrapping around my neck. "You are going to be my whore tonight, Yuki," I murmured against her lips. "I'm going to use every single one of your holes, and every single one of these toys."
"Just one thing," she gasped when I let her breathe. "My safeword is 'Red Light.' Anything else is just noise. Please… please break me, Akira-sama."
"You're wearing too much," I said, my eyes devouring her flimsy t-shirt and shorts. "Get naked. Now."
She tore her clothes off, revealing the sheer, crotchless panties and matching bra she'd worn just for me. My sanity frayed. I grabbed her, throwing her over my shoulder like a sack of grain, and began to spank her.
SMACK! My palm connected with her ass cheek, the sound echoing in the dungeon. She yelped. The ripple of her flesh under my hand was a drug. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! I rained blows down on her, alternating cheeks, my world narrowing to the percussive rhythm of my hand, her cries, and the sight of her perfect ass turning a beautiful, mottled red. She was sobbing, orgasming from the pain and humiliation, her fluids dripping onto the concrete floor.
I carried her, trembling and broken, to a large leather bed in the center of the room and laid her down. She watched me with wide, tear-filled eyes as I stripped. "You're so beautiful," she whispered.
I put on one of the condoms she'd given me and drove into her without warning. She screamed as I filled her, her body spasming around my cock. I fucked her with a brutal, relentless rhythm, taking her lips in another bruising kiss. She came again, and again, her body a live wire of sensation.
"On all fours, bitch," I commanded, pulling out of her. "Present that ass to me."
She obeyed instantly, her ass high in the air, a silent plea. "Beg for it," I snarled.
"Please, Akira-sama! Give me your big, fat, futa cock! Please!"
I granted her wish, sinking my entire length into her in one powerful thrust. She shrieked, her pussy flooding with another orgasm. I fucked her from behind, my hand slapping her reddened ass, my pace frantic. I was an animal, and she was my prey. I felt my own orgasm building, an avalanche of sensation. I roared, a primal sound of triumph, as I flooded the condom, my hips bucking uncontrollably.
I collapsed beside her, pulling out the condom, which was heavy with my seed. She was panting, her body trembling, her face a mask of pure, blissful exhaustion. "That was… amazing," she gasped. "You fuck like a beast, Akira-sama."
"That was just the warm-up," I told her, and her eyes widened in a delicious mixture of terror and excitement. "We have all night."
As she recovered, my gaze drifted to the cabinets. So many toys. So many possibilities. I found a string of anal beads, each one larger than the last, nearly a meter long. I held them up. Her face flushed a deep crimson.
"Present your ass, bitch," I grinned.
She did, adding a soft, "Use lube, please, Akira-sama."
I lubed her asshole and the beads generously, then slowly, methodically, began to feed them into her. She moaned as each bead slipped inside, her body twitching. Soon, the entire string was nestled deep within her. Her pussy was weeping, slick and ready for more.
She put the next condom on me with her mouth, her devotion absolute. She turned around, offering her pussy to me. "Please take me, Akira-sama."
I plunged into her. As I did, I gave the string of beads a sharp tug, pulling the first one out. She screamed, a raw, piercing sound as a massive orgasm wracked her body. I showed no mercy. I fucked her with a punishing rhythm, pulling out a bead with every other thrust, triggering orgasm after orgasm until she was a quivering, sobbing mess, her mind shattered by pleasure.
"It's too much!" she screamed. "Mercy, Akira-sama! Please, mercy!"
"No mercy," I growled, pulling the last of the beads out in one long, smooth motion. Her body arched off the bed, a continuous, unending spasm of ecstasy. I pinched her nipples hard through her bra, kissed her senseless, and finally, roaring like a beast, came deep inside her.
I fell atop her, both of us drenched in sweat and her fluids. This time, when I looked at her, she was completely gone, her eyes rolled back in her head, her body limp. Cum drunk. I laid her gently on her side and stood up. I needed to ground myself. I pulled out my phone and dialed my mother.
"Akira! Do you know what time it is?!" her stern voice crackled.
"Hey, Mom. Sorry. I'm at a friend's house. Her name is Yuki. We're just hanging out. I'll be home late. Don't wait up. Bye!" I hung up before she could interrogate me further. I would pay for that later.
I looked at Yuki's unconscious form. A strange sense of possession, of responsibility, washed over me. I explored the rest of the basement and found a luxurious bathroom with a massive jacuzzi. Perfect.
I carried her limp body to the shower and began to wash her, her skin still twitching with phantom pleasures. The warm water seemed to revive her.
"Whoa," she mumbled. "I was… gone."
"You were," I said with a smirk. "I thought we could take a break. I don't think you can handle another round right now."
She smiled weakly as I soaped her sore, red ass. "You're a beast," she whispered.
"And you love it," I replied, helping her into the bubbling hot water of the jacuzzi. She curled up against me, her body pliant and exhausted. We sat in silence for a while, the jets massaging my tired muscles.
"Akira-sama?" she said softly after a while.
"Hmm?"
"Why were you so angry today? At those people?"
I looked down at her, at the genuine curiosity in her eyes. And for the first time, I told someone. I told her about Kaito's plan, about Miki's complicity, about the years of torment. I didn't tell her what I'd done to Kaito, not yet. But I told her enough.
When I finished, the water around us seemed to have grown cold. She was shivering, but not from the temperature. She looked up at me, her eyes dark.
"They deserve everything you're going to do to them," she said, her voice a low, fierce whisper. "And I want to help."
I smiled. A true, dark, predator's smile. My sissy and his bitch had no idea what was coming for them. And now, I had an accomplice. Round three could wait. Tonight was for planning