Grell Gets His Wish… Well Kinda.
"Grell~"
I can hear him whispering my name.
"Sebaschan~ Say my name again!" I cried out to what I though was a cold, dark, dream. I struggled, trying to reach for him, something clanging above my head.
"My, my, Grell. So ecstatic just from hearing my voice." I heard a dark laugh.
That's when I realized the situation I was in. The cold, from me being naked against a stone wall, the dark, from the blind fold, and the beautiful dream I'm in from-
"Did you enjoy that drink I gave you? You drank it so quickly; I thought it might've died." His gloved hand trailing down my chest then back up, lightly. "Of course, if you had died, it would have been of no consequence, merely a slight setback for my need."
This definitely couldn't be one of my dreams. He would always say such sweet things to me in my dream, that he would never hurt me… at least… not more than I wanted.
"Sebaschan, why would you drug me?" Arching my back to feel more from his seemingly fleeting touch. "I would have gladly given myself to you. For a price of course." I said with the sexiest smirk I could manage with his finger lightly circling my nipple.
"Oh? And what would that price be?"
"Me becoming your waifu of course." Biting back a moan trying to force its way out, I tested my bindings. My legs were chained fairly far apart, my arms stretched above my head and supporting most, if not all, my weight.
"What does being my 'waifu' entail?" His strokes teasingly going lower and lower then suddenly too low (if there is such a thing). Instead of where I wanted him to touch most, he touched my thigh; he knew what to do to make me hot with need.
"Being a 'waifu' means bending to your partners will, giving them every fantasy, every desire, every single dream, in exchange for their love, daily sexual pleasure," bucking my hips I continued breathlessly, "and the right to have claim on their body."
"That could be seen as a sex slave more than a wife." That sexy smirk leaking into his words.
"That's why 'waifu' is different. We have masters not Husbands." I bucked my hips again, he finally gave in, or so I thought.
"You want to be my waifu then?" His breathe hot on my flushed cheek.
"Yes," I moaned, "more than anything."
"Then I shall stake my claim."
He bit my neck hard as his hand finally grasped on to my hard, leaking cock. I moaned out a mixture of pain and pleasure that seemed to get him more heated. As his strokes started, he slowly licked at the blood on my neck, in what I thought was an apology. That is until he started to speak again.
"I love the taste of your blood on my tongue. I think I need more."
Gasping loudly as he bit hard on my shoulder, the pain barely masked by the pleasure from below.
"Sebaschan… N-no… No more bites… P-please." I whimpered out.
A harsh slap answered me.
"Do not call me in such a disrespectful manner waifu. Remember you are my slave. What would a slave like you call me?" His delicious movement stopped making me panic that this all would stop. I bucked my hips and moaned, desperately, for more. He squeezed me harshly, holding down my hips. "Answer me slave."
"M-master!" I cried hoping for more the pain to melt into pleasure.
"Sebastian. Come." A little voice called.
"Oh how bothersome. I am terrible sorry, waifu, but it seems my master needs me."
"No!" I cried but it was already too late. He was gone, and I would be left there hanging, naked, on the wall.
"Will he ever take me?" I whimpered softly.
