Sensei Dearest
A bit of nonsexual BDSM for EraserMight because I wanted to try my hand at it. It's written in second person today, because I like to switch point of views every once in awhile
TOSHI
The cab ride to the house is quiet and a little awkward. Your thin, lanky hand is clammy in his grip, but you don't find it to be particularly uncomfortable or gross. It's pleasant and reassuring.
You can feel your heart racing in your chest, and nerves knotting up in your stomach. You have never ever done this before, so naturally it's terrifying. Your human fear of the unknown is way stronger than the quirk you've just lost. You tear your eyes away from where they were previously staring at your lap and you look up to gaze at him. He's looking out the window, holding your hand. His elbow is resting on the sill. His expression is stoic, as it always is. Dark eyes are transfixed on the passing scenery. The fringe that usually whisps in his face is pulled back behind his head and secured with an elastic band that blends in with his hair. From where you sit, you can clearly see the crescent shaped scar beneath his right eye. He's very attractive like this, you note, and you desperately long for those dark eyes to meet yours, even if it's only a brief glance, a fleeting moment.
Then it does. The dark eyes that had once looked cold and beady are soulful and warm. There's a spark of something inside you. Your blue irises study him while he gazes at you. You pull your wide, ever-famous smile, trying your best to hide the swirling storm of feelings pulsating inside you. His frown pulls into the faintest and softest of smiles, so brief and fleeting that it is a ghost upon his face. It was so brief that if you would have blinked, you would've missed it. It was so brief that you're not even sure if it was real. Because he almost never ever smiled, especially not at you, especially not with a gaze so affectionate. However, when you feel the clammy grip on your hand tighten, you realize you weren't imagining it.
"You don't have to do this, you know." He says, "No one is forcing you too."
"I know, but I want to try." The tiredness in your voice betrays the hidden nerves, "Midnight says it's an excellent form of therapy, even though it's seldom practiced." You reply earnestly.
"Of course she does. She's been dubbed the R-rated heroine for good reason," He scoffs, "Though I suppose that makes her the expert." He finishes.
There is a thoughtful silence. His expression is stoic again, and despite your intense desire to read him, you find it rather difficult. However, upon further analysis, it doesn't take long to realize the clamminess isn't just from your hand.
"Remember, if you're uncomfortable, just use the safe word we came up with." He says.
You nod and smile again. Blue and dark brown gazes meet each other, and the word rolls off your tongues as smooth as polished veneer.
"Detroit."
He squeezes your hand again and you keep your gaze fixed, and a sudden desire burns inside you. You know it'll all be fine. And you're ready. Your desperate craving, your desperate need…it'll soon be fulfilled.
-xXx-
The cab comes to a stop in front of a small little condo, with the dark mahogany of the fence, and the rather bland outside inviting to you. There are two soft clicks one after the other. Click. He unbuckles. Click. He unbuckles you. He pushes open the car door and his hand slides from yours. Instantly, you feel a cold emptiness, and it triggers an ache.
"Come on, All Might." He says. His voice is commanding and authoritarian, but not in a bad way. Just in a teacher-y way. With a jolt both literally and figuratively, you jump up to follow him. He closes the car door behind both of you and leads you towards his front door. You barely hear the lock click when he opens it. He enters the darkness that is a stark contrast from the sunshine outside. You linger in the doorway. You're hesitant because you can see phosphorescent eyes staring at you, judging you. Gazes, glares…whatever they are…they burn into you.
Then the light clicks on. The tenseness in your shoulders instantly relaxes as the light reveals the eyes to be the gazes of three fluffy, mewling cats. They begin to encircle him, mewling growing louder.
"Alright. Alright. I'll feed you in a moment." He bends down to pet one on the head, and you suddenly feel like an intruder.
"Shoo." He prods them away. He then turns to meet your gaze again, "Don't worry about them. They're harmless…Come in." he says, "Take off your shoes."
You obey immediately, wiping your feet on the welcome mat. You follow him into the main part of the house.
"Your cats are cute." You compliment.
"Thanks. They're fat and lazy and I enjoy their company." He replies.
You stand stupidly in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do next.
"Have a seat on the couch. I'm going to go make some tea."
"Thank you." You sit down and watch him vanish into the kitchen. It leaves you feeling empty. However, the softness of the sofa provides you with a sense of security as well.
One of the cats approaches you and meows, rubbing its head against your shin. You let it sniff you, and it licks your hand with its sandpaper tongue. You scratch it under the chin, and it leans into the touch. It lets you know that you're welcome here.
You relax some and survey your surroundings. The house is simplistic and tidy, with designs and colors that are completely neutral. Next to the couch, in the corner of the living room is a cat tower, currently occupied by all three of the felines. There's a coat rack by the door, where his black trench coat, gray scarf, and yellow goggles are neatly hung. The décor upon the walls is minimal, with a clock and a couple of framed pieces, and everything is cat themed. On the mantle of the fireplace, There's a couple of photos, one of the cats, his high school group shot, and a picture depicting all the staff with Class 1A. There's a "Get Well" card beside it that's signed by all the students. Those two artifacts are your favorite. On the far wall, you see his hero certificate, with his codename and rank. It envelopes you with a sort of…protective shield, and its simplicity relaxes you.
You slowly release the breath that you didn't know you were holding in, and in that moment the kitchen door swings open. The harsh sound causes you to jump.
He enters the living room, carrying a tray that holds a kettle and two cups. He pours the tea into the glasses. He puts the kettle down and goes to lift the cup. You watch him carefully raise it to his lips. He blows away the steam and takes a small sip, eyes closing in tranquility as he inhales the scent and warmth.
You can't tear your gaze away, because every single one of his movements are mesmerizing to you. He peers over the rim of the teacup at you, and you nervously shuffle, tearing your gaze away and sipping your own tea, burning your tongue in the process, while keeping your blue eyes fixed on the transparent glass of the coffee table.
You remain in this position, but then you hear the cup gently being set on one of the coasters. Rough, yet gentle fingertips reach under your chin and tip it upwards.
"Chin up, Toshi." He says to you, "It's not like you to be this unsure of yourself."
"Sorry…"
"Don't be. It's perfectly normal to be nervous, you're not alone." the gentle smile from before appears again, and this time you're positive of it. You return the gesture. The two of you continue sipping tea and chatting lightheartedly. The longer you talk, the more comfortable you become. And by the time the tea is gone, you've calmed immensely. The tense muscles in your shoulders have loosened up and you feel a spark of your usual confidence.
"In order for this to work, you have to tell me exactly what you want, Toshi." He says.
"I don't want control anymore. I am everyone's source of confidence and strength and have been for the longest time. So much so that I feel like I am going in blind, like I have no one to guide me or protect me. And…even though I have smiled through everything, my smile…is a mask. I am doing it to hide my fear. I want the feeling of relying on someone, especially now…I feel so vulnerable and I want to be protected… I want someone else to make my decisions for me. I look up to you Aiza- I mean, Shota. You are a wonderful teacher and a strong hero…and I am attracted to you. Something about you…it just…it makes me want to submit to you. So that is…."
"No. I understand." He replies, taking your hands "But before we start this…" he gazes deeply into your eyes, "Tell me your safe word again, Toshi."
"Detroit."
"Alright." He got up from the couch and slowly slid his hands away. He took a few steps back, "Stand up, Toshi."
As quick and straight as an arrow, you're up on your feet. For some reason, you stare down at the floor again. Shota steps forward. He leans some of his weight upon your taller form and stands on his toes to tilt your chin to perfectly meet his gaze.
"You're still dissociating. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
"Of course, I do."
"What would help you feel better about it?"
"I want my quirk to be erased." You reply.
SHOTA
You study your sub intently. You're not used to seeing him like this. So small, so vulnerable. You're used to seeing a bright beam of confidence, so it's both puzzling and fills you with a sense of uncertainty. Maybe Midnight's brilliant idea isn't such a good one.
"I want my quirk to be erased." He says. He straightens his posture, "I can hold my muscle form just long enough for you to erase it. I hate turning back to this form simply because I run out of time. I will feel better about it if your quirk triggers it. It will make me feel truly submissive to you."
"Okay." You watch him closely as the thin, lanky form gradually becomes large and muscular again. He holds his ground. When he's fully transformed, he draws in a breath.
You blink, your dark eyes a blazing shade of red when they open again. Immediately, when this happens, you see him melt back into his lanky, thin form, and he hacks up a bit of blood. You abruptly move forward to see if he is okay, your stomach somersaulting and knotting itself up. Your eyes widen, and your heart rapidly thumps in your ears.
"It's okay," he reassures, "This is normal." He smiles down at you. Down, not because he is looking down upon you, but because his lanky form is way taller than you.
No, that simply won't do.
"On your knees." You order.
His knobby knees slam rather violently into the carpet in an effort to please you.
"Easy," you say, "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." Your voice is low, and suave.
Once again, his head is hung towards the floor. You smile despite yourself. You stand above him.
"You've got blue eyes, Toshi-kun," you say, "If you keep looking down, I can't gaze into them."
His irises turn upward, to try and meet your gaze, but he doesn't lift his head.
"Let's see…how does the old saying go…" You pick your brain to try and find those English lessons from years ago, and then you remember. You say it slowly. The language is utterly strange to you, but the message you're giving is clear:
"1…2…3…" your slender fingers slowly find the underside of his jaw again, "Eyes on me." As you slowly breathe the three words, you tip up his chin in tandem. By the time you finish speaking, your gazes are locked once more.
"Good." You get down to his level, kneeling, but keeping one foot flat on the ground and one leg up. You then move your hand up to caress his cheek. He leans into your touch and sighs. Your free hand comes up and presses against the opposite cheek, so you are completely cupping his face now. His face, which is hot with blush. You press your two foreheads together for a moment before pulling away slowly. You stand and take a few steps back. His face falls.
"Wait here, Toshinori." You command.
"Yes, Shota." He replies. You deliberately move slowly around the coffee table behind him to tease him a bit. Then you turn your back to him and make your way towards the coat rack that holds your scarf.
You pluck it from its hook and put it on yourself as you return to him.
TOSHI
You're trying not to shiver with anticipation as you wait for your Dom to return to you. He is out of your line of sight, and you are fighting the anxiety bubbling in your chest. Your desire is burning, pulsating through you. All you want now is more. More. You want more touches. And caresses. But you know you must wait for your Dom, and the anticipation is killing you.
He returns, and you fight back your excitement when you see that he is wearing his scarf. Yes. This is exactly what you wanted. Your rapidly beating heart has amplified itself, and it thumps even louder in your ears.
"Eyes on me, Toshi-kun." He says.
You do as you are told, keeping your gaze locked, carefully following him with your eyes, trying your best not to react, but instead paying close attention to his eyes and handsome, scruffy face as he walks around you and stops behind you. Nimble fingers slip beneath the hem of your loose t-shirt. You stiffen.
"Toshi-kun?" there is concern in his voice and he stops abruptly, "Color?"
"Yellow." you say.
He lets go of you and pulls away slowly.
You take a breath and then you explain, "It was just surprising. I was not expecting you to go for my shirt."
"My apologies." he says sincerely, then he explains himself, "It's loose on you. If I remove it, it will be easier to feel the sensation of your bonds. But I'll leave it on if you'd prefer."
"No. It's okay. Please…continue. Green."
He presses his body weight into your back and reaches beneath the hem of the shirt again. He sweetly massages the scored flesh of the colossal scar in your side and you feel a tremor course through your entire being. A deep sigh elicits from your mouth, and your shoulders relax. You feel him slipping off your t-shirt, and you raise your arms above your head to allow for easier removal. Once it is removed, the cold of the air-conditioned living room comes as a surprise, but the goosebumps are refreshing against your heated skin.
You feel his weight upon your back, and he leans into you, dark hair tickling the flesh of your bare back. He continues to massage your scar, slowly, and deliberately, his hands so firm, yet so gentle. Your breath hitches. He murmurs in your ear, hot breath brushing against it. Heat envelopes your body.
"You want me to capture you with my scarf, don't you, my little Toshi-kun." It is a statement of fact rather than a question.
"Yes. I do, Shota. Please." A part of you hates yourself for begging, but at the same time you cannot think of anything else sincerer, "Please capture me." Your voice is strained with anxious excitement.
SHOTA
"Please capture me." A smirk crosses over your lips. On one hand, you want to give your sub what he wants, to comply with his wishes immediately, but the mischievous part of you would rather play a bit longer. You're enjoying this.
Midnight's words echo in your head, It never hurts to tease a little. She had said, But be careful not to upset your sub. Know your partner's limits and stay within them. The most important thing is to play safe so that it's more fun for the both of you.
So, you get an idea.
With the same haste you'd use to capture a villain, you capture your sub. You flick your scarf outwards. It flares in front of you and quickly wraps around Toshi. It wraps around his shoulders and back, and partially around his eyes and mouth, blindfolding him from the world around. You pull it taught, tugging it backwards. It throws him off balance. His breath catches in his throat as his body falls backwards into you, and his head rests upon your shoulder. You tilt his head back, your dominant hand gently covering his temporarily blinded eyes, using the other to keep a firm hold on the scarf.
"Like this?" you murmur, your lips and breath brushing his ear.
Toshinori does not respond.
You lift your hand from his eyes and bend your head forward, softly pressing your forehead to his, "I'm sorry, Toshi-kun" you continue, "That was too rough, wasn't it? And I pulled too tight, didn't I? This method of capture is too harsh."
You release him, and he lets out a disappointed sound that could only be called a whimper. You press yourself into his back again, nose brushing the back of his neck. Your stubble scratches the warm, tender flesh.
"Don't worry, I still plan on capturing you." You reassure deliberately, "Just not that way. That way is suited for villains and badly-behaved children, neither of which you are. It isn't suited for such a lovely thing as yourself. I'm going to try again. And I assure you…" you lean into his ear, your lips just brushing the shell, "You'll like this much more."
For a moment, you're slightly shocked by your sudden sensuousness. It has been so long since you were so suave. Midnight's refreshing lessons have re-taught you well.
Toshinori coughs, spurting blood again. However, you are not alarmed this time, because this time, you feel this response is a good sign.
Your hands carefully push him back into a sitting position, and you get up and cross in front of him to give him a once over, to truly take in and appreciate him in all his topless, submissive glory. You find the colossal scar on his side specifically captivating. Its scored appearance makes it so rugged and strong, so beautifully obvious. It is a reminder of how strong he really is, and it is a reminder of how lucky you are. It makes you proud to call him yours. And you want to show him that.
TOSHI
Firm, yet gentle hands push you back into your kneeling position, and Shota exposes your entire torso to him. It is bare and dappled with glinting sweat droplets. A part of you feels that the scar is glaring and angry, and that it tears away from the delicate paleness of the rest of your skin that you want your Dom to find lovely, and for a fleeting moment you feel self-conscious about it. For a fleeting moment, the cool air in the house gives you a sudden chill and you're physically uncomfortable.
Shota steps back and then crosses in front of you. He must sense your discomfort, because he walks up to you and gets down to your level. He presses his cheek softly against the scar. Although his scruff is scratchy, the rest of his cheek is soft, so it balances the sensation out, and it feels wonderful. He presses a chaste kiss against the tightened skin marks, which sends a ripple shooting through your core. He pulls away, but he takes your hands.
"Come on. Stand up." He says. He stands and pulls you with him, and you happily oblige. Your heart is thumping so loudly, it's the only thing you can hear. The steady badump, badump like a metronome…and it counts every precious beat of this precious moment.
He takes your hand in his and wraps the end of the scarf around your thin arm to ensure you don't go anywhere, even though you'd never dream of it.
"We're going upstairs to my bedroom," he tells you.
"Okay."
He leads you towards the stairs and then begins to climb them, keeping his scarf wrapped around your arm. You're a few paces behind him. The climb is unnaturally long, even though it is simply a straight there, a left turn here. There's a small hallway, and at the end waits a door.
Shota pushes it open and clicks on the light. The room is simple and relatively clean. He stops at the edge of the bed in the center of the room. He releases the scarf from your arm.
"Lie down." He says. Your heart rate increases immensely, and the passionate desire is eating away at you. Like an obedient dog you comply. Once you're situated, he stands and watches you. There is a silence as you study each other, and for a moment you think you made your Dom upset somehow. But that fear melts away as quickly as it appeared when he smiles at you for the third time that day.
He climbs onto the bed with you, and then crawls on top of you. The pressure against you and sudden warmth of his body atop your own envelopes you like a blanket, filling you with inexplicable joy. You try to raise your upper body to be closer to him, but he pushes you back down into the soft pillow clouds.
"Nah ah. None of that." Your face flushes.
He holds your gaze for a moment. Then, he temporarily removes his scarf and slowly pulls off his own shirt. What is revealed to you is a torso and arms covered in many, many scars of all different shapes and sizes. He has more scars than you do. He stays where he is, letting you survey every part of his front before he puts his scarf back on. You glimpse the starburst scar on his elbow, and briefly you're overcome with guilt.
He sees you looking at it. He meets your gaze. He leans forward, bending his elbow toward you, towards your lips.
"It's been aching lately," he says, "Won't you kiss it better for me?"
"Yes, of course I will." you reply eagerly.
Then, there is a short, waiting silence as you study one another. You don't move.
"Well, go ahead then." he finally says, "What are you waiting for, Toshi-kun?"
"S-sorry!" You quickly lift your head up enough to place a kiss upon the puckered, pink flesh.
"Good boy, Toshinori." he praises.
You beam.
"Since you're so well behaved, I'll let you touch me."
At the thought of this, your stomach churns nervously, but your veins course with excited energy. This is the most perfect reward that you, as a sub, could ever receive. You long to feel those precious scars, and those lean, firm muscles.
Deliberately, he takes your hands and places them upon his hips. He keeps a firm hold upon your wrists, and then guides them up and down his sides, applying pressure like a massage, demonstrating what he wants.
"Like this," he says, "But all over my exposed skin." He spends a few more moments guiding you, before he lets go and lets you do it by yourself. You do your best to mimic his movements, slowly dragging your hands up and down, applying pressure to certain spots. You run your thumbs across the outline of each scar, tracing them, and, your fingers feel each muscle. You carefully apply pressure to each indent, being particularly careful around his ribcage. His skin is smooth and delicate and perfectly imperfect, his muscles lean and firm.
He breathes deeply, closing his eyes, relaxing at your touch. And the rise and fall of his chest is tangible and lovely. He bends and arches into each sensation, his gooseflesh rising with every anticipated touch.
"Yes, right there...mmmm...good boy, my little Toshi-kun." he utters breathily. His low voice is full of passion and sensuality as you massage the tension from his body.
You run your hands up and down his sides one last time before he grasps onto them and guides them to his arms. You continue to rub and press, taking time to feel the soft, delicate tissue of the scar on his elbow. You love the feeling of his rippling triceps and biceps, and the feeling of his soft shoulders. He leans forward just slightly, to let you caress his face. He places his hand upon yours and leans into your touch. He gently rubs up against you like a cat. His stubble scratches your palm, and it satisfies the itch in your flesh. He takes the other hand and places it upon his other cheek. He holds the position for a moment, but then his hands move deliberately down your metacarpals, to your wrists and down your forearms and your gooseflesh rises with every anticipated touch of pale skin. His hands slide down. His hands slide up. It happens precisely twice before he latches onto your wrists. It happens so quickly…he pushes you down, and raises your arms above your head.
It is a surprising notion, and now he's leaning over you. Both of you are heaving because of the sudden adrenaline rush.
"Did you enjoy touching me, Toshi-kun? Because I most certainly enjoyed it, you've got such gentle hands." he murmurs.
"Yes. Yes of course, Aizawa-sensei. I always do."
"Good." he says softly, another smile crossing his face, before he is once again stern, "My turn."
You're so excited. The anticipation...the urge is real. You then avert your gaze from his and carefully watch his every move, but a gentle tug on your arms grabs your attention.
"Eyes on me." He orders.
Your blue gaze locks into soulful brown. You feel him dragging his thumbs up and down the smooth part of your wrists, before he presses them into your palms and then tightens his grip around the back of your hands. With his grip secure, he crosses your wrists.
Again, excitement is rapidly pulsating through you.
"You know what's about to happen, don't you?" He indicates his scarf.
You nod vigorously.
"You want it bad," he says, "And you want it now. You've been aching for it the whole time. Since we started. And I'm about to give you it. But, you know I have a reputation for being cold..."
You're stabbed with a sudden ache. You feel his grip on your wrists loosen ever so slightly. No! In the back of your mind you had a feeling he would pull this. But why!? Why was he doing this now? You were so close…
"You have to earn it." he says, "I can't just give it to you. You have to impress me first. Your massages were lovely...but I can't just be satisfied by that, now can I? Not if I want to live up to my reputation."
At this moment you know he is playing you.
"So show me that you want it."
You can feel your skin heating up. He leans forward and presses his bare front against you. When you touch, his skin is as hot as yours and you feel his heart pounding rapidly against the cavity of his chest.
He leans into your ear, hot breath on your neck. He utters a low, suave word in English. "Beg." he orders, "Beg for it."
Oh God…
He pulls away, smirking.
"Please…" you breathe, "Please…"
Sweat droplets start to form on your skin, and the air feels sticky.
"Please what?"
"I want...I want you to tie me up."
His grip loosens.
"Why?" he asks.
Badump, badump, badump...
"Because...Because I want to feel like I completely belong to you...if you capture me I will." your voice is strained.
Badumpbadumpbadump...
"And?"
BADUMP, BADUMP, BADUMP...
"Please, sensei, please...I have been so good the whole time. I have obeyed all your commands and done all you asked me to the best of my ability. I have earned it. I want you to tie me up. I deserve it." adrenaline is coursing through your veins.
He continues to smirk.
"Please, sensei. Make me belong to you. Please. Tie me up. Keep me here forever. That is all I want."
His grip tightens and he leans into you again, lips brushing your cheek, eyes halfway closing.
"Call me that again, Toshi-kun." he orders, hot breath burning your neck.
The heat envelopes you like a sweaty blanket. His grip tightens on your wrists.
"Sensei, please…"
This is all you desire...all you can think about right now. You're heaving in desperation. His body is pressing against you, and you swear you can hear the rapid pounding of his heart. Its ringing. Ringing. It fills the air, so loud and fast.
"What was that, what do you want from me?" he breathes heavily, "Well? What is it...baby?"
A sharp impulse courses through you. You shudder. Your breath hitches. Normally, you would laugh at such a ludicrous word...but the way he uses it, the way he says it...so deliberate...so slow...so sensuous...it fills you with the best kind of shudder. And you're determined.
"I want…" you gasp, "I want you to touch me, kiss me, caress me, make me yours, Shota. Please….Sensei, I want you to tie me up. Right now. Because I earned it. I deserve it."
He stiffens and takes a breath. Everything around you freezes. Time stops. Nothing. Silence.
"Yes. You do. You have earned it." He relaxes and pulls back, but he keeps his grip firm, "Hold still, Toshinori." He orders. You relax. You don't have to be told twice.
He unravels part of his scarf and begins to bind you with it. He wraps it oh so slowly. The fabric is soft against your skin as he skillfully winds it around your bony wrists and part of your thin arms. He holds your arms in place, tugging, tugging ever so slightly as he secures you with your bonds. The sensation is lovely, and his warmth leaning over you excites you.
He slowly removes the scarf from his neck as he ties you with it, tugging, tugging, and then finishes it off by securing it to the bed frame. You feel gravity pulling and you meet it with resistance when you are secured. He places his hands under your arms, and slides you up so you can be more comfortable. The scarf is tight enough, but not to the point where it hurts. You sink your head back into the pillows and sigh deeply, sinking into the feeling of being tied to the bed frame. He tugs at the scarf to ensure its security. He wraps one arm around your head, resting in on the pillow. He supports himself on his side, and the other hand lingers upon your bonds. He slides his thumb back and forth against them, applying some pressure that you feel beneath them against your pulse points. When he feels the increased rate of your pulse, he smiles down upon you. Although there is still affection behind it, it is smug as well, a perfect balance unlike the ones from earlier that were either way affectionate, or way smug. "Yes. This is the proper way to capture you." He says.
Shota pulls himself back into his sitting position, "Perfect."
Perfect indeed. The slight tugging sensation of your bonds is a reassuring reminder that you are his. With him above you, gazing at you, with an expression both smug and warm, you relax, your heart and body coursing with joy because you have been captured. And Shota is the one that has captured you. This is what you wanted.
"Look at you Toshi-kun. Such a wonderful listener." Shota says. You beam with the praise. But...it is not enough. You still want him to touch you...caress you lovingly and deliberately.
He straightens his posture and pulls out the elastic in his hair.
"Hold this between your teeth for me." He says, holding it out in front of you. You find the request odd, but you comply, because the only thing you want to do is please your Dom, especially now, since receiving such praise and working so hard to get him to tie you up. And now that you are, you want to earn more.
You part your jaw just enough for him to slip the hair tie between your teeth. You clamp down and wait, breathing through your nose as you watch him.
He pulls all his hair back into a ponytail. He keeps a firm grip on it with one hand and uses the other as leverage as he leans down.
He inches forward towards your mouth, close enough that you are just centimeters from a kiss. You can feel his hot breath upon your face, and butterflies flutter violently in your stomach, and your pulse threatens to pound out of your chest.
However, he does not kiss you. And you force yourself to hide the disappointment. He plucks the tie from your mouth with his own and then fastens his hair back into its low, messy ponytail.
He then places his hands upon your gaunt hips and runs them up from there. His hands find their way to your abdomen, chest, and sides, being particularly thorough at your scar, tracing every outline deliberately and meticulously as he massages you. His hands gently trail up your arms, around your elbows, and up to your own hands. He works them out of the tense fists they've subconsciously made, and he entwines your fingers together. He squeezes, and then traces down your wrists, your forearms, around your elbows, and down to the indent of your shoulders. He carefully kneads at the sides of your neck and your Adam's apple. He caresses your cheeks and traces the outline of your ears. You feel his fingers bury in your hair, and he massages your scalp.
He trails his fingers up and down your body again, caressing you from the hips and on. With every gentle knead, every affectionate touch, you feel the tension in your muscles you didn't know were tense gradually relax, and their soreness minimizes immensely with every gentle caress.
Finally, he leans downward, pressing his body lightly against yours. His arms are placed around your head and shoulders, and he's leaning over you. Strands of his hair are loose from the ponytail, and they lightly brush against you, tickling your skin. One hand strokes your blonde tresses and caresses your face. And finally he's inching closer…closer…and you're overflowing with excitement and happiness because everything has led up to this…
SHOTA
You lean over him, and finally, you are inching closer…closer. You're overflowing with excitement, it courses through your veins, and fills you with something that you can only describe to be happiness because everything has led up to this.
You kiss his forehead, his chin, his cheeks, and finally, your eyes flutter closed, and you capture your submissive's lips with your own. It's a gentle, sweet kiss, and when the two of you part for air, you lie down and press your body against his so that your hearts can beat steadily as one.
"Such a good boy today, Toshi-kun…" you murmur.
"I love you, Sensei." He says.
Another smile crosses your face. Your cheeks have begun to hurt from smiling so much today. You sigh contently. Then, you tell Alexa to play some soft, romantic Jazz, and when the music starts, you take a nap upon your sub's chest. Your strenuous lessons with Midnight have paid off, you think, because by the feeling of pure tranquility that wafts from him, you know you've done right.
TOSHI
He tells Alexa to play some smooth Jazz, and when the music starts, he closes his eyes and soon drifts off to sleep on top of you, leaving you tied to his headboard. A part of you wishes he would stay awake, that he would keep gazing at you, kissing you, caressing you…but at the same time, something about this moment is so precious and fulfilling, and you would not trade it for anything. You're in such a state of contentment and relaxation, and the tension from the scarf tied around your wrists lifts the tension from your mind and body. So, you try to sleep too.
-xXx-
When you wake up, your arms feel stiff from being stuck in their position, but you have been untied, and it feels odd. You flutter open your eyes. You shift your body weight, which causes Shota to look up from where he's lazily playing with one of his cats at the end of the bed. When he feels you stirring, he turns to face you, drawing his attention from the feline and focusing on you. It sparks a special feeling inside you. His hair is falling loosely about his shoulders now. He studies you with his dark eyes.
"Sleep good?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"Would you like something to eat now?"
"Can we…can we cuddle instead?" you ask, "I'd rather do that."
He doesn't say yes. Instead, he lies down beside you and pulls you into his side. He kisses your temple and then your lips again. These sweet gestures say, "I love you." And you are filled with overwhelming joy.
You couldn't have asked for a better therapy session.
