His hands were tied, hanging limply above his head, but that was the least of his worries.
There were egg vibrators taped to both of his nipples, buzzing against the sensitive nubs relentlessly. One calloused hand was wrapped around his already leaking cock, stroking it much too quickly for the small boy to handle; the other hand had three fingers pistoning in and out of his hole, a constant assault against his prostate. He was panting out moans, shaking from the overwhelming stimulation. Covered in sweat, back arched like a bow, moaning like a whore in a porno…
Kokichi Ouma had never felt like such a mess. In some respects, this was worse than having Momota's dick tear him apart. The pleasure tore through him in waves, but all he could think was what's the catch? There was no way, after all, that Momota was just going to get him off and then leave.
His thoughts dissolved into nothingness when Momota cranked up the vibrators to their highest setting, causing Ouma to cry out in unbridled pleasure. His body and mind were fighting a war; he wanted it, he didn't want it, oh god he wanted it. Giving in to Kaito goddamn Momota was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was so close, eyes half-lidded and hips pushing back against Momota's fingers, desperately searching for just a little more friction to-
It stopped.
Both hands pulled away, leaving him empty and painfully hard as the vibrators continued to buzz away on his chest. Two of the three sources of stimulation gone, he whimpered, falling down from the high he'd been so close to reaching. He was shivering, rolling his hips, trying in vain to reach that point again.
Momota laughed, "look at you, Kokichi! You really do like our time together, don't you, you little whore?" Ouma had the energy to do little more than whine in response. "Like a bitch in heat, just begging to be fucked.
"You know," the astronaut smirked, "I'll finish you off if you really beg for it."
Ouma mustered up the fiercest glare he could, clenched his jaw, and spat out "I'd rather die."
Momota chuckled and resumed his ministrations at full force, grinning as Ouma threw his head back and screamed. "I will break you, Kokichi."
And he did.
Up, down, up, down, again and again and again he was brought to his climax only to be denied release. The fourth time, drool began to drip down his chin. The ninth time, tears rolled over his cheeks; he only noticed when he tasted the saltiness on his cracked lips. Two more cycles and the tears were joined by heart-wrenching sobs, but Momota didn't even pause in his effort.
A strange clicking noise, then: "All you have to do is beg, Kokichi."
Then, the twelfth time he felt that knot coiling in his belly, he begged. "I..ah~! I give! Please- ngh- Momota-kun! I c-can't take it! Let me cum! Please let me- hah~- cum! Please, please, please.. please..." His ego was taking a tremendous blow and Momota knew it.
Finally able to release, Ouma screamed so hard his voice broke, thrashing violently to find some sort of purchase as he drowned in white-hot pleasure. Only small whimpers and sobs escaped him as the astronaut undid his restraints. He tore off the vibrators, unceremoniously collapsing onto his bed, naked and panting and splattered with his own drying seed.
He grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest, burying his red face in it like Momota wasn't still sitting a few feet away. He had no idea how long that torture had gone on, but he was utterly exhausted. His limbs were numb, still tingling with the remnants of his orgasm. How… he thought, how could this happen? How could I let Momota do this to me? Supreme leaders should never beg for anything! But he-
Ouma's rumination was interrupted by the faintest of touches against the nape of his neck, slowly trailing down his back. A shiver shot through his spine, entire body tense as the feather-light strokes moved lower, lower, and then-
Smack!
The small boy yelped in both surprise and pain as Momota's palm slammed against his ass, then beginning to knead the flesh as though to soothe it. His muscles twitched; he was still very sensitive, after all. Not to mention the green and purple bruises remaining from their first session.
Smack! His body jolted, his grip around the pillow growing even tighter. He was shaking, shoulders jerking with poorly suppressed sobs.
Laughter. "What happened to the 'evil supreme leader' act, Kokichi? Cat got your tongue?" He responded with little more than a sob, his thin form shuddering. Momota pinched the skin on his side, then the back of his neck. He jerked away from both. "You know, I bet everyone would like you much better like this." He then reached around to pinch Ouma's nipple, invading the fragile bubble of protection the pillow provided. The boy spasmed and whimpered, violet eyes shut tight as Momota rolled him onto his back.
"Such a submissive little slut, and sensitive too." That weird clicking noise sounded again. "I wonder what they'd all say if they saw you like this? I bet they'd laugh; you're pathetic."
His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "They...they wouldn't…"
"Wouldn't care? That's absolutely right."
"S-Saihara-chan…"
"Doesn't give a shit about you. And he never, ever will."
The astronaut pushed his legs apart with a snicker.
"Hey Kaito, does, uh...does Ouma-kun seem a bit off to you?"
"Whataya mean, bro?"
"He's...quiet. He doesn't say anything unless he's directly spoken to; it's very unusual."
"I guess that's a bit freaky, but good riddance, I say! Why do you care anyway? He's done nothing but cause trouble up 'til now."
"That is true, but…"
"But?"
"N-Nevermind. It's nothing. You're right."
Saihara-chan, I know I'm the least trustworthy person you've ever met, but I'm telling the truth when I say Momota-chan raped me for the second time today. Ouma sighed from where he stood in front of Saihara's door, unable to bring himself to knock. Yeah, I'm sure that'll go over well. He'd totally believe me. Not.
He raised a hand, resigning himself to just spending an hour or so pestering Saihara, when someone else's covered his mouth. His eyes shot wide open and he immediately began to thrash about, fighting against the person whose arm pinned his to his sides.
"Be still, Kokichi." He froze; the voice was Momota's. "You should know by now that it hurts more when you struggle." The taller man grinded against him, his hand muffling the hitch in Ouma's breath. He removed his arm from around the ruler's abdomen, instead moving his legs to secure Ouma's in place. "For your sake, I hope you weren't planning on telling Shuichi anything. After all," several photographs were dangled in front of his face, "I don't think you'd want anyone to see these, would you?"
It was a surreal experience, seeing those images printed and shown to him. Him deep in the throes of pleasure, face flushed red; him with tears staining his cheeks, begging for release; him sprawled out beneath Momota, embarrassment and fear evident in his expression. They were physical proof of how he'd been humiliated, a constant reminder of how his reputation would be dragged through the dirt should he ever confide in someone. Blackmail, he cursed, how underhanded of you, Kai-chan.
"Go back to your room, Kokichi. Go to sleep, you look terrible." Having pocketed the photos, his hand slipped beneath the shorter boy's shirt, lightly thumbing one of his nipples. He growled, "I don't think you want to know what I'll do if you even consider coming back out here."
The Ultimate Supreme Leader shuddered, stumbled forward, and did as he was told.
