"I'm gonna blindfold you," Dabi said as he sorted through the toys she had agreed to using this scene. "Understand?"
Ayumu had her hands cuffed to the Saint Andrew's Cross, stripped down completely for his use. It was both thrilling and terrifying to expose herself, but considering they'd agreed to no skin-on-skin contact, and no masturbatory play, she'd acquiesced to his request for complete nudity.
He'd only stripped off his jacket, wearing a fitted tee and jeans. Scars ran over most of his arms, but she could see the lean muscle moving beneath his rough skin.
When he turned an expectant gaze toward her, she realized her mistake. "Yes, sir."
He'd apparently laid everything out to his satisfaction, picking up the mask-like blind-fold that would cover the upper part of her face. It was soft inside, lined with velvety material, and it blocked out all light more effectively than a traditional blindfold would.
The last sight she'd seen was his hungry gaze roving her body like it was his last supper.
"I should have guessed you had these pretty nipples pierced, too, considering all the decorations you have up top. You got more, dollface?"
Ayumu swallowed and shook her head. She'd thought about more, but even she was a little scared to go that far. At least for the moment.
Dabi hummed. She felt something skin-like and buttery run across one breast.
Leather gloves.
A pleasurable pinch twisted at her nipple and she arched into it.
"Already practically begging for it." A sharp burst as he slapped the same breast. "I don't even know where to begin. You have so much skin for me to play with." He was close enough she could feel the heat rolling off him. "I suppose I should be nice and warm you up."
A series of slaps fell upon her, each sting blooming into a flower of heat as blood rushed to the affront areas- breasts, thighs, stomach, even some delivered to her ass, though parts of his clothes body had been against her for that. And that was probably more painful than the warm up, feeling him through his clothes, the hard lines of his chest pressing against her tender breasts, the barely-there friction of his jeans against her vulva.
And then he began his true torment.
The first toy, she pieced together after the first few hits, was a cane. Thick enough that it had some thud, but thin enough it still stung. Ayumu knew she'd have raised welts to run her fingers over. Each hit curled her toes against the mat on the floor.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you take a caning so well," he growled between swings. "Maybe next time we should tie a Hitachi against your clit and I can cane your calves and feet. Make it hard to walk in more ways than one."
She whimpered, a flood rolling through her at his words.
Dabi chuckled. "I think she likes that idea. Little slut."
He had more than one cane for her. The next was much thuddier, maybe the two-inch diameter PVC pipe. It bit deliciously through to her muscles, making her cry out when he crossed other welts.
"Fuck!" she cried after a particularly hard hit that buckled her knees, right leg almost completely giving out from being hit. She righted herself quickly, panting.
The worst of the implements was the thin length of carbon fiber that lit her nerves on fire. This he used in areas more prone to breaking. She soon had searing lines over the tender expanses of her inner arms, and spanning her ribs and stomach. She was coiled tight, sweating and needy and wanting.
"I can smell you, you know," he taunted. "Your cunt is dripping. You really get off on this. You're fucking disgusting." He yanked back her head, neck stretched taut and fist in her hair. "You want more, painslut?"
"Yes, please."
The sharp tug at her roots voiced his displeasure.
"Please, sir."
"Hm." He pushed her head to the side using her hair. "Maybe I should gag you next time, see you drool like the pathetic bitch you are."
He was really good at dirty talk, stoking her need for degradation.
"You'll get more. You better be fuckin' grateful for it, too."
She licked her lips as he walked away from her, wondering what he'd surprise her with. She didn't even register the whistling before the cracker snapped against her skin. Didn't register the pain until half a second later.
The sound that left her lips was far from pain. There was a moment of stillness wherein she strained to hear him, wishing she could see him, could press against him again. Thoughts outside this room, this moment, were all too distant to recall. The two of them may as well have been the only ones on earth.
Then he snapped the whip again and even the wanting fell away, supplanted by the delicious curl of the whip splitting her skin.
He whipped her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Then he released her restraints and had her turn and lean against the cross so he could whip her ass and the backs of her legs, the expanse of her back. Ayumu was shaking, rising higher, twisting further. Dry sobs wracked her body, interspersed with carnal moans. It was a lash that curled around her hip, so close to her apex, that finally unleashed whatever had been building in her. She shook, legs faltering, her arms burning with the effort of trying to hold herself up, hands grasping the metal ring attachment points. She was sobbing and whimpering and moaning and laughing all at once.
Dabi was there, his coat somehow on again as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her upright. "It's alright. You're alright, doll " He murmured against her hair. He lifted her effortlessly and laid her on the bed, wrapping a blanket around her and pulling her against him. "You were such a good girl."
She nuzzled against his chest. "Thank you."
"I feel like I should be saying that. That was so fucking hot. Hope you don't mind a few new scars."
"Mmm. Broke skin, huh?"
"You look so good bleeding, I just couldn't help myself." His cheek was resting on top of her head.
It was sweet, how he was holding her nearly on his lap, curled around her as she was burritoed in a blanket. "I didn't take you for a cuddler."
"Aftercare is important. Besides, what guy doesn't enjoy a cuddle sesh with a hot chick." Dabi's hands massaged her arms through the fabric. "I got a granola bar and a Gatorade for you to snack on." He was prepared. He opened both for her, watching with those effervescent blue eyes as she nibbled and sipped away.
"You're a freaking furnace," she said between sips of the reddish drink. "It's great. I get cold even when I'm not dropping."
He stroked her hair, fingers untangling it over the blanket. "One of the few benefits of my Quirk. It keeps pretty little things curled up against me after sex."
She giggled through a mouthful of sweet grains.
"You didn't drive here, did you?" Dabi asked after a moment of cozy silence.
"Nope. Took the bus."
He grimaced. "I'm getting you a cab."
"The bus is fine," she insisted.
"No, it isnt." He'd already pulled out his phone. "I wanna beat this sweet ass again, and that won't happen if you get murdered on the way home."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine."
"I saw that. Brat."
She was too warm and floaty to do anything but smile, burrowing further into the nest of his warmth. The food settled in her stomach and the drink was already working its magic on replenishing her blood sugar.
"Ready for me to clean you up?"
Ayumu did absolutely nothing productive on Friday. Her body ached from hard use the day before, bruises settling deep into her muscles, welts risen on her flesh. She was still in a good mood; drop never made her overly depressed, just enhanced whatever emotion she felt at the moment. And at this particular moment she was pretty damn peachy.
After a few simple stretches, she grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer and settled on her futon, Netflix already running her show. It was one of her favorites; she'd seen it many times before, but Parks and Rec just hit the spot on days like this.
Her phone was on the little side table, always on silent and mostly used as an internet blackmore. She glanced over at it every now and then, and smiled when she saw the notification.
how u feelin today doll?
Ayumu smiled around a spoonful of chocolaty goodness.
-I'm great. How are you, O Sadistic One?
lol ur in sum mood
no sub drop?
-Only the physical. I'm watching sitcoms and eating ice cream, so no reason for me to get all weepy or anything
good girl. make sure to drink water
-alrighty
lol fuckin weirdo
what kinda ice cream?
-B&J chocolate fudge brownie. It's in my top three, but nothing beats the long lost Late-night Snack
the chocolate potato chip shit was surprisingly good
-Right? The Netflix one reminds me of it, but it's still not the same.
Texting Dabi remained a daily occurrence even after they'd played. Sometimes people lost interest after they'd scened; some became absolute hounds in pursuit. Dabi seemed somewhere in the middle- neither disinterested, nor obsessive. They also didn't only flirt, though their predilections popped up fairly often.
its raw n its slimy n it has that fishy taste
-It is delicious and a beloved Japanese staple
i dont give a shit its fuckin gross
i fuckin hate fish n raw fish is the worst
-Some people compare the taste of fish to other things…
pussy is delicious n tastes nothin like sushi
-True. I never got where that came from
u tasted pussy?
-... uh, yeah. Cheating ex was a woman
hot
She rolled her eyes at that. If he pestered her about a threesome she was going to bash his brains in.
u smelled good
bet u taste better
-Your mind=gutter
like ur one to talk doll
-Fair point. BTW what do you do? You know how I spend my time.
u dont wanna know
-Embarrassing?
letting u keep plausible deniability
-Ah, so illegal. Okay, I won't ask for details
It didn't necessarily surprise her. Dabi looked dangerous, would look dangerous without the scars, and he obviously had a powerful Quirk. Between the expanses of rough skin and the heat that rolled from him in waves, she suspected he was incompatible with whatever it was exactly.
Ayumu had her own issues with her Quirk, evidenced by the insomnia and too-early introduction to topics better left for later in life. Like the Luminescent baby, she'd had her Quirk her entire life. Her mother had speculated it developed in the womb, since she'd started struggling with her own Projection while gestating her one and only child.
It also meant their relationship was a bit more open than most children and parents. She'd seen her father through her mother's eyes, though he was gone before Ayumu had come into the world.
The memories had started crowding into her head somewhere around the time most children developed their abilities. Ayumu's mother had found her curled up in the closet, crying and digging her nails into her arms to try and rid herself of them. That was the point at which the woman knew she needed an outlet.
Notes:
There will be another chapter or two before we start getting into the dark parts. I have no idea how long this will be- however long it takes to tell the story, I guess.
You can poke me on twitter, same name.