03: The Wolf.

Tuesday, April 4, 2017, noon

The tub in the small, tiled room was still filled with the bath water of lemon balm and honey and gradually cooled down. Sukunai dripped coconut oil on her hands and rubbed it on my back. I used to think this ritual was a kind of cleansing or relaxation, but today I knew that the natural care products served only one purpose: my skin should be supple and smell good, nothing more. I was a living rubber doll and I should come across accordingly. The preparations were not intended for my well-being, but solely for the satisfaction of the men.

In the mirror, I watched my mother as she did her work with her usual indifferent expression on her face, preparing me for the meeting as she had done for years. Sometimes I thought she was already dead inside, at least she had perfected her own mask. Just as Hiashi was a master of his craft, Sukunai was in no way inferior to him. Other women would certainly have been disturbed by turning their own daughter into an Oiran since she was twelve so that she could be abused by her husband's business partners, but Sukunai just accepted it. She didn't defend herself against Hiashi and his orders, she had never done it before, no matter what he asked of her or me. Every time I thought about her, I wondered if Hanabi and I had been created in a violent act. Nobody liked to imagine their parents having sex, but with mine, a hot, erotic night with smooching and groping, as I wished for it with King, was even less likely than with normal people. My father treated my mother as his own. There was no love or sexual attraction between them. I had never been able to develop an emotional connection with my mother, and for all that she had allowed in the past, my deep-rooted hatred belonged to her, but then again I thought that no woman deserved such a life, not even her.

Only.. Why did she allow all this in the first place? Had Hiashi ever been different from today? Surely, if I had been a boy, he would have treated me better, still. No normal-thinking woman simply looked the other way when her father was so openly abusive. Right?

"Okaa-san?" I asked.

Sukunai's brown eyes met my silver ones in the reflection. Her gaze was sharp, as it was every time she looked at me. Her dark irises spoke of the usual dislike, although I had never understood why she loathed me so much.

"Have you ever loved father?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about, Hinata?"

I tore my gaze away from my mother. "I wondered why father and you got married."

Sukunai craned her head and continued with the massage. "You don't understand such things."

"Why not?"

"Because you're too young."

BUT OLD ENOUGH FOR GROWN MEN TO FUCK ME?! I took a deep and trembling breath so as not to lose my composure in front of my mother. "I'd just like to know if it was love or..."

She paused, her oily hands on my shoulder blades. "Or?" she probed in a pointed tone.

For a moment, my eyes darted into her stern face. "Or.. duty." What was I doing here? Sukunai was willingly in bondage to Hiashi, that should be clear to me. Shit. The fact that King had confessed his love for me had softened me. Now I thought everyone around me had a soft core deep inside.

Sukunai continued to massage me, but now a little harder than before. "Your father is a great man. It is an honor for me that he made me his wife. And now be silent. I never want to hear things like that from your mouth again."

"Yes, Okaa-san." I lowered my head and looked at my intertwined fingers in my lap, knuckles white and tense. The fresh plaster on my thumb covered the wound I had nibbled yesterday during my panic attack. Of course, I hadn't told my parents about it and claimed that I had cut myself on a piece of paper. My cheek was still tingling from the slap Hiashi had given me. "How dare you hurt yourself before a meeting?!" he had roared.

God in heaven.

I closed my eyes. When was this finally over? I had numbed myself to not feel such fear anymore, but now I realized that I hadn't buried it deep enough and it was gradually coming back to the surface. How deep did my grave have to be for it to stay gone for good?

"Hinata, rise."

I looked up. The girl in the mirror looked back coldly and expressionlessly. The red-painted eyes, the equally red lips, the gallant updo with the golden flower clips did not belong to me.

Hesitantly, I followed Sukunai's instructions and she wrapped a richly decorated, blue and white kimono around me, embroidered with the same flowers that shimmered in my blueish black hair. If the reason for my appearance wasn't so sad, I would feel pretty, but I always associated kimonos with meetings and I feared that this would be the case forever. If I ever married King, I wouldn't be a traditional bride, I swore to myself, no kimonos, never again.

King..

The thought of him sent a shiver down my spine. What would he think if he could see me at this moment? Would he think I'm pretty? Would he be worried about me? Would he.. protect me? Help me? Save me?

Sukunai led me into a room in the west wing. Hanabi and I were usually forbidden to enter this part of the house, because Hiashi received his guests here, as he did today. My mother opened a door and pushed me into the darkened room. She lit a few candles to add a romantic touch to the ambience. For me, they had the advantage that I could hardly recognize the men. That actually made it easier. Why were there women who found rape scenarios stimulating? I would never be able to understand that. There was nothing stimulating about a man forcibly taking what he wanted. No. It scared me. But I mustn't be afraid, otherwise it would only get worse. These men were into it when I cried, so I had trained myself not to do it years ago. I shed a maximum of one tear when it burned too much.

My mother left the room, closed the door and it became quiet around me. Only very muffled, very quietly, I heard several men's voices from next door. I didn't understand what they were saying, but they talked to each other heatedly. Was that good? If Hiashi and Madara Uchiha did not agree, another war could break out between our families and there would most likely be many casualties on both sides. If they did, the Uchiha would abuse me right away. Neither were prospects that were particularly tempting.

I knelt on a pillow in front of the wide canopy bed and took a deep breath to calm my fast pulse. A short smile flitted across my extra-large made-up lips when I noticed that Hatake's breathing exercise from yesterday actually calmed me down. Who would have thought that.

For an hour I knelt in the semi-darkness, occasionally straightened my posture when I subliminally registered that it had sunk in a bit, and took a very conscious and very even breath to not allow a panic attack. My knees hurt, but that was no comparison to the pain that was about to await me. The minutes passed and I wondered if I would get away for today, when the conversation next door fell silent. With a soft whirring, the door to the meeting room was pushed open and a noticeably dark aura entered the room.

Despite the successful breathing exercises, my pulse shot up. Automatically, the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I shuddered slightly. Even though I hadn't looked at him yet, the man radiated a tremendous presence. He hesitated at the door, then closed it and walked over to the low table where Hiashi, generous as he was, had provided expensive alcohol. Glass clinked, a liquid was poured into a vessel. The rustling of clothes and a soft creaking told me that he had sat down in the chair next to the small bar. A click sounded and the acrid smell of burnt tobacco rose to my nose. I began to tremble as he asked in his deep, piercing voice, "What's your name?"

There was no reaction from me. I was afraid that I might sound weak if I opened my mouth now, and I wanted to avoid that at all costs. If he was going to take me, I shouldn't do him the favor and beg or stutter or what do I know what. The putz could confidently give himself that.

"What's your name?" he asked emphatically. He sounded stern and calm at the same time, which made a strange impression on me. While I was still silent, I heard him rise and approach me. I felt cold, my trembling only intensified. "Are you not allowed to talk to me?" I kept my eyes down, didn't react any further. His aura seemed to devour me and I couldn't have answered him even if I had wanted to. What kind of guy was he that he scared me so much with his mere presence?! And this fear was independent of the one I had because of the impending abuse. I felt something.. strange in me that I couldn't or didn't really want to assign.

A sigh sounded from above. "I have to admit, I don't like repeating myself very much," he began, audibly puffing on his cigarette and blowing out the smoke loudly. The density, crowd, and speed at which it reached me told me that Uchiha was standing right behind me. My whole body trembled at this realization and I closed my watery eyes. Damn, just do it, come on, get it over with! And me..

"If you are allowed to speak, I ask you to do so. I asked you for your name, girl."

At the last word, I inevitably grimaced and I was glad he couldn't see it before I forced myself to wear my mask again. Somewhere deep inside I dug for a shred of guts, found it and said in an amazingly firm voice: "Hinata."

"Hinata..", Uchiha repeated and the way he said it, I trembled again – but to my own horror in a different way than before. His timbre, his charisma, coupled with the way he emphasized my name, it.. No. I didn't want to. And yet.. I couldn't deny to myself that it aroused me. Sexually. Enormously. A flash of lightning stabbed through my vagina and I opened my eyes wide because of my own physical reaction. That couldn't be true! Earlier I was condemning women who had rape fantasies, and now..? NO. I wouldn't enjoy any of this, no matter how this man might sound.

"Hinata, please stand up. I don't like it when you kneel so submissively."

I couldn't help it. I would have followed such a request with other men, but with him my muscles simply worked blindly, almost as if he was exerting an indescribable force on me. With shaky legs, I rose and straightened my kimono. Behind me I noticed movement. Another smoke enveloped me, a body surrounded my quivering one and then I saw a pair of shiny, black shoes on the simple tatami mats. The suit pants, which were exactly the perfect length, showed this crease at the front and I didn't need to see the rest of his clothes to know that everything about him was tailor-made. His perfume smelled expensive and through another flash in my abdomen I finally knew what people meant when they said that someone could be attractive just by their scent.

"Look at me, please."

Very slowly did I raise my head. My gaze slid over an expensive leather belt – the way it was pulled down a bit at the side, I guessed he was wearing a gun holster – a dark red satin tie held in place by a silver pin with a few flourishes on it, a perfectly fitting black jacket with a pocket square over a dark gray button-front shirt up in his face. First I saw his distinctive jaw with the well-groomed three-day beard, then his lips between which his veiny hand shoved a cigarette, his straight nose, his pronounced cheekbones, and finally his eyes, which sparkled glowing red despite the dim light. I had heard of the heritage of the Uchiha and had seen it once or twice, but never before had I seen such.. how else could I call it? such fascinating eyes. The look in the deep red irises ate into my soul and at that moment I didn't care that they were surrounded by dark shadows that made him look old and tired at first glance. Because at second glance they promised danger. They only gave his expression more of a fierce wolf lurking in the darkness, of which nothing but the outline and the reflecting eyes were visible. I immediately understood why this man, Madara Uchiha, of all people, was the clan leader of the Akaiisan-kai and why my father had a lot of respect for him. He radiated an almost intangible power that would bring absolutely everyone to their knees. Just a short flit of his eyes down to my cleavage was enough to give me goosebumps. And again it was not an averse one. Shit.

Uchiha said nothing more, did nothing, only took one last drag on his cigarette, walked over to the table and squeezed the butt into an ashtray. His long, wild, black hair flowed over his back, reaching down to his shoulder blades. For the first time, I shuddered, not because of its natural attraction, but actually out of fear. It was probably because my father had always had long hair, but I always associated such a hairstyle with violence, hatred and fright. I hastily averted my gaze from the tall man and was painfully reminded why I was actually here.

I closed my eyes and was just about to start my breathing exercises again, when Uchiha spoke in a soft voice: "I can imagine that you are afraid of me, Hinata. So I have to ask you a question." He turned to me and for a second our eyes met. I quickly lowered mine but listened attentively. "Do you want me to sleep with you?"

Shocked, I stared at him after all. I looked in his lofty features for scorn or anything else that would have told me that this question was a trap, but I couldn't find it. In general, I found nothing in them, except for this pride and authority, which were probably simply carved into them. My mouth opened a crack and even though I didn't want to answer, I couldn't stop myself from doing so now. "No.."

At first, Uchiha didn't move, but suddenly he nodded, sat back down in the chair, picked up the glass of whiskey and said simply, "Then I won't do it."

A familiar panic rose in me, which included a riding crop. "No! Forgive me, Uchiha-sama. Of course I want and.." I fell silent as I examined his expression. He had raised his eyebrows a little and a dominance sprayed from his irises that silenced me without verbal command. "No, you don't want to. Honestly, I didn't need your answer. Any sighted person with halfway common sense would have noticed that you felt uncomfortable."

"Please..", I pleaded and was surprised myself at my submissive tone. "Please, no, I didn't mean to offend you. You may.. You may do anything you want with me. Just please, I can't disappoint my father."

Uchiha lowered the glass and looked at me attentively, still with an unfathomable expression. "So I may do anything with you?"

I nodded.

"May I fuck you?"

Again I nodded, albeit a little hesitantly. That's what we were here for, wasn't it?

"May I harm you in any other way?"

An almost robotic nod on my part.

"Your father allows everything?"

This time I only shrugged my head slightly.

"Does he want to know from you afterwards what was done to you?"

After a short hesitation, I silently denied it.

"Good. Then I want us to talk."

"What?" escaped my horrified face.

"Yes," Uchiha said simply. "Please, sit down. You make me nervous when you stand there like that."

Tentatively, I shuffled over to the bed in my tight kimono and sat down on it, continuing to stare at the man in front of me, who was watching me with his usual sinister yet vacant expression. Suddenly he pulled the chair he was sitting on through half the room and now we squatted directly opposite each other. "Well, Hinata. How old are you?"

"E-eighteen." This surprising closeness to him made me feel insecure.

"Mhh," he nodded with a soft growl in his throat. I had to swallow hard. This sound alone was... "Do you still go to school?"

I shook my head. "I've been going to university since yesterday."

"What are you studying?"

"Law."

"Do you want to be a lawyer?"

"Um.. Well..", I pressed out, but under his sharp gaze I quickly said: "No, my father wants me to be one."

Uchiha was silent for a moment before saying, "You're doing everything your father asks of you, huh?"

"Um, well, yes, I have no choice."

"Yes, you do," he replied firmly.

Without thinking, I frowned arrogantly and my reserved mask crumbled slightly. What did he know?! "No, I don't."

Again, he was silent for a while and his jaw muscles tightened under the perfectly placed whiskers. It was obvious that he didn't like contradictions. "Just look at yourself. We could have sex now, I would satisfy my body and you would cry yourself to sleep because of it tonight, or however you deal with your feelings about it. And believe me, we're not sitting here and are both clothed, because I wouldn't be able to take what your father promised me. I just have to confess, I prefer my partners willingly. In sexual intercourse, there is nothing more stimulating than mutual consent. I respect you, so I don't touch you. Because you decided against it. You ALWAYS have a choice, Hinata."

"No!" it slipped away abruptly. Immediately I recoiled because of my own daring. "S-sorry, Uchiha-sama, I didn't mean to yell at you.."

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the whiskey glass resting on his upper arm. "Call me Madara."

"W-what..?" I gasped.

"I don't like your submissive nature, Hinata," he replied calmly. "And to be clear: Yes, you have a choice. You don't have to submit to your father just because he demands it of you. You are your own human being, and he has no right to determine you and your body. What else would you want to study instead of law?"

"I.. um.. I don't know," I murmured.

"Why not?"

His piercing gaze reprimanded my shyness to the point of exhaustion. I didn't know how far I could go with him, but I knew he wanted to hear the truth. And I wanted to give it to him willingly, for whatever reason. "I never thought about it because I... because I never had a choice."

"You're a difficult girl," Madara sighed, loosening his aloof posture and drinking his whiskey.

"Um, excuse me, M-Madara-sama, but could you please refrain from calling me 'girl'?" From what hole of my slavish existence did this suddenly come?

Madara froze in his movement. His jaw muscles tensed briefly again. He met my now somewhat uncertain gaze with a hint of displeasure. But when he spoke, there was no resentment in his voice. "Why don't you want to be called that? You're eighteen, that's what makes you a child in my eyes."

I gasped quietly. Whatever it was that had driven me to make the request, now really took a swing and I said: "I haven't been a child for years. Because no child should do things like I did. A child should play and laugh and climb trees, and not cry herself to sleep at night because a man half a decade older than herself fucked her bloody. I'm sorry, Madara-sama, but the term 'child' doesn't apply to me, no matter how old I am and no matter how old I may seem from your, I don't know, thirty years of life experience." At this remark, his right eyebrow twitched imperceptibly. I continued unperturbed. "Or do you know many children who have had two abortions at eighteen, one of which made them infertile? I would be very surprised if your answer to this question was 'yes'. So please, do me the favor and don't give me a childhood, even though my father never allowed me to have one." My dignity and my beaten in caution were of the opinion that I should not treat Madara as my incarnate diary, but it was surprisingly good to get at least a small part of my feelings off my chest. Who else could I confide this to? And although I didn't even know how trustworthy this man was at all and whether he wouldn't run to Hiashi and tell him everything, I guessed, suspected, hoped that he didn't. He and I had the bad luck that he was here right now and I was apparently no longer able to maintain my mask.

Madara seemed to need a certain amount of time to let my words sink in. After almost two minutes of silent staring – his expressionless, mine almost defiant, although more and more restlessness spread through me – his red eyes detached themselves from my compulsively monotonous face, glided over my kimono and he said quietly, "No, I don't know many children who actually feel this way. I'm sorry, Hinata. I won't call you 'girl' anymore. I will see you for what you are. And I'm sorry for you that you grew up way too early. You don't deserve that." His eyes darted up and again there was this resentment. "But damn it, I told you I don't like your submissive nature. Stop addressing me as -sama. I understand that you mean that respectfully, but in your case it is not respect, rather it is the fear of punishment that speaks from you. What do you think I'm going to do – run to Hiashi and tell him everything we're talking about?"

"What the.." Could he read minds?! Desperately, I tried to rebuild my mask, which had simply collapsed like a puny house of cards because of Madara's manner. Never, not even fucking once in my fucking life had I met someone like him. The rumors about him might be true, but this man was much more than the cold-blooded and brutal clan leader you might think anything about.

As if out of the blue, Madara leaned forward, came very close to me with his face and breathed almost silently: "What do you think about me doing business with your father, Hinata?" His breath smelled of whiskey and cigarettes, but it was anything but repulsive in combination with his woody perfume and the dark expression in his eyes. I didn't back down. "I have nothing to do with my father's business."

"Then why are you here?" he asked a question that threw me completely off track, as did everything about him. I opened my mouth but didn't reply, so he continued, "You're part of his empire, whether you want to have anything to do with it or not is irrelevant. Your guise and presence prove this. You don't resist it, so you remain a part of it, Hinata." He leaned forward, pushed his head next to mine. His scent only became more intense, robbing me of all willpower. A few of his long, wild strands of hair tickled my cheek. Excited, I closed my eyes and gasped choppy. Very close to my ear, so close that his breath brushed hot over my skin, he murmured, "And I will destroy your father's empire, with all that is in it. I don't want to hurt you, Hinata, so make sure you finally resist."

"Yes, sir," I whispered, trembling.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, I don't intend to harm you," he whispered and I shuddered. Again, at the depth of his voice, a flash of lightning pierced me unexpectedly. Intuitively, my right leg jerked up a bit to push itself closer to the left and not to keep any gap open in my crotch, I touched his hip and I prayed to all the gods of this world that he didn't notice my reactions or at least interpreted them differently.

But Madara did not do that. "Hinata..", he growled. "You told me you didn't want to sleep with me. Did you lie to me?"

I whimpered. "Please.." I didn't even know what I was asking him for. My vagina wanted to be fucked by him, my lips wanted to kiss him, my fingers wanted to dig into his fragrant, soft hair – but my mind wanted him to move away from me. In addition to all the unexpected horniness, I still felt a serious fear of this man.

Madara withdrew a little, but only so far that his face hovered in front of mine again, I could feel his breath on my chin and the tips of our noses briefly brushed against each other. "Hinata, I ask you one more time and I demand that you tell me the truth: Do you want me to sleep with you?"

A tingling sensation spread throughout my body, giving me goosebumps. I ignored my racing heartbeat and my faltering breathing. I only noticed all the smells emanating from the man in front of me, rising to my brain and gradually numbing my mind. Madara came even closer and his upper lip touched my own for a millisecond. "What do you want, Hinata?" he whispered darkly.

I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME!

Again I whimpered.

"Say it."

Another touch, little more than his breath sliding over my lips.

"Hinata.. What do you want?"

And then I did it. I moved my head forward just a tiny bit, overcame the paper-thin distance between our faces and kissed Madara. His lips were infinitely soft, delicate, gentle. They returned the pressure only slightly, but this minimal movement made every vessel in me overflow. That tingling in my body focused on my lips and in my crotch. Never before in my life had I been so aroused. All fear had disappeared from my mind, only Madara existed. His lips, which guided mine in this kiss, opened a crack and let his tongue through. It was a hot, powerful organ that entered my mouth, brought the taste of whiskey with it and stroked my own tongue, which timidly nudged back. We touched in a way that was so much more intimate than anything I had ever experienced. And it was much, oh so much better than it had felt in my head. It was fiery, passionate. And at the same time so tender. Whenever I thought he was withdrawing from my mouth, he came back, animated my tongue to play with him, teased me, elicited a pleasant sigh from me.

Suddenly I felt cool fingers on my chin, tilting my head slightly to the side, just so Madara could deepen our kiss further. I didn't think this was possible, but it was. Now I felt even more of him, his trimmed whiskers that scratched over my skin, his teeth that bumped into mine from time to time when we were too greedy. I tasted more, heard more of the barely audible smacking that our tongues and lips made when he withdrew again, only to penetrate deeper into me. His thumb stroked down my neck, over my artery, which throbbed devotedly, up to my ear. His other fingers rested on the back of my head, pressed into my hair and me closer to him.

Madara became coarser. His kisses became faster, more demanding and awakened something in me. It made me hesitate, shrink back. Madara probably noticed this, because he loosened his grip on my head and broke away from me. He was breathing heavily and the warm air cooled my heated lips. "You don't want it," he stated soberly and yet with a hint of disappointment.

Involuntarily, my chin began to tremble and I bit my swollen lower lip. "I..."

Madara finally took his hand away from me, but not without stroking my jaw one last time with his knuckle. He moved away from me so that he could look into my eyes, which shimmered back watery. I blinked and a tear escaped from my eyelashes. Shit, now I cried after all. I lowered my head, but Madara, who remained motionless in his bent posture, lifted it right back up with his cool hand and forced me to look at him. "Are you ashamed?" he asked softly in his deep, bloodcurdling voice.

My thoughts raced. I felt everything at that moment, but shame was actually not part of it. Slowly I shook my head. "I.." I swallowed. My saliva tasted like his. "I.. don't know how I.. should express it." His thumb ran over my cheek, wiping away the trail of tears. But he remained silent, apparently giving me the time I needed to collect myself. I took a deep breath, looked firmly into Madara's sparkling red eyes and said softly, "I don't know if I want to sleep with you, Madara. I don't know if I'm ready for it yet. I'm afraid."

"Of me?" he asked and his timbre briefly threw me off my game.

My heart stopped for a second and finally raced on incessantly. "I don't know," I breathed sincerely.

Madara immediately let go of me. He straightened up, walked back to the table in silence and drank the rest of his whiskey. With a nasty sting in the stomach area, even in these few seconds in which I had seen him from the front and from the profile, I noticed that he was visibly aroused. However, I could not identify the emotional origin of this stab in the chaos in my head. Something between frustration, enthusiasm, guilt, remorse and yes, a little shame.

"Are you mad at me now?" I asked in my tried and tested submissive way.

Madara had still turned his back on me, hesitated, took the last sip from his glass, put it on the table and finally said, "No."

I had no chance to hear whether this statement was sincere or what mood resonated with it. However, when he half turned to me, his gaze was unexpectedly warm. "No, Hinata, I'm not mad at you. If you don't want that, I respect that. I will never impose myself on you." As if to find a reason to change the subject, he looked at his bulky wristwatch. "I have an appointment soon." It sounded conclusive, but not dismissive. He looked at me again. "I don't like to say goodbye to you, but I have to." With a soundless sigh he came back to the bed, subliminally I noticed that his erection had already subsided. He stopped right in front of me, so I had to put my head far back to continue looking him in the face. In this semi-darkness, illuminated only from behind by the candles, he seemed more threatening than ever. But his voice had a nuance that gave me courage for some reason: "I beg you, Hinata, resist. I don't want to destroy you."

"Yes." My answer was short and more croaked than spoken, but I was not capable of more. My brain was confused about what had happened in the previous hour and what it was supposed to mean. Hardly a feeling was clear, only one: melancholy as I watched Madara disappear, leaving me alone in my cage.

be_my_ace: [King. I want to see your cock, right now.]

King_size94: [Huh? No "Hello" or "How was your day"? What happened? To whom do I owe your prurience?]

be_my_ace: [No jokes, please. I'm horny AF and I want to see you!]

King_size94: [I know it's not Friday, but I'm hard like shit today. Can you show yourself?]

I jiggled my leg impatiently and glanced at the door. Kou hadn't knocked yet and Hanabi had just disappeared into her room. It was risky, but fuck, I wanted it. [Give me a minute! But today without an outfit. It has to be done quickly.]

King_size94: [I only need you, Buttercup * Have to change too.]

Hastily and with hands trembling with excitement and panic, I locked my doors, carelessly threw my pajamas into a corner in the wardrobe, carefully placed the necklace with the opal pendant on the ottoman and my secret laptop next to it. Without paying much attention to what I was doing or whether everything was actually covered, I pushed the butterfly mask over my face, knelt in front of the camera together with the dildo and the bottle of lubricant that I had taken from the locker at the train station yesterday and started the video chat, which was immediately accepted. King sat there as usual in his black clothes, his penis already exposed and fully erect. I giggled. "You really are horny, aren't you?"

[Fuck yes.. Show me how much you are!, King typed and I didn't hesitate to lube the dildo, set it up under me and push myself onto it. Immediately, I felt the lust that had dominated me since the encounter with Madara gather in my abdomen and wanted to explode without much action on my part. I moaned softly and clung hopelessly agitated to the cushion of the stool. A pinging drew my attention to the screen, where King was already breathing and pumping heavily. [Please cum for me, Buttercup]

I hardly needed to move. Two or three thrusts, triggered by my upper body, which rose up and down, and a slight pressure of index and ring finger on my clitoris were enough for my orgasm to discharge. And how it discharged. It rustled in my ears, my already confused thoughts swirled around and every fiber of my body screamed loudly for release. I moaned much louder than intended, also made a roaring sound and something wet my lower legs. I was shaking all over and opened my eyes, even though I couldn't even remember closing them. I also tasted blood, because I had apparently bitten my tongue to turn down my volume. When I looked between my legs, I noticed that the dildo was stuck inside me to the hilt and a damp stain spread around it on the carpet. "Oh fuck..", I murmured and looked up at the laptop with blurred eyes, where King was sitting breathing heavily and had obviously cum as well. A trail of sperm stretched from his stomach up to the black shirt collar. His right hand rubbed his stiff limb, with his left hand he typed: [shit, how randy was that] and he let the cell phone drop wearily.

I giggled again. "Fuck, I'm sorry for your shirt. Have you ever cum so fast?"

King's chest shook with laughter. [At most as a teenager, but that hasn't happened to me for years. I keep saying it: You're driving me crazy, Buttercup! I need a stress cigarette on that right away..]

Grinning, I bit my lower lip and was about to tease him further and, above all, drive him and myself to new orgasms, when a loud knock sounded behind me. "Hinata-sama?"

My body suddenly stopped every function necessary for survival. With clammy fingers, I searched for the shortcut for the microphone on the keyboard and when I saw in the chat window that it was muted, I turned to the half-closed cabinet door and shouted loudly: "Yes!"

"Is everything okay with you?" asked Kou's muffled voice. "I heard a noise."

"It's all right, Kou. I am well. I just hit my toe on the table leg." I pinched my face and hoped fervently that my lying skills at that moment were sufficient for this unnecessarily astute guard dog.

"Do you need medical care? A cold pack? A band-aid?" From the laptop it pinged quietly.

"No, it's all right. It doesn't hurt any more, I just moaned because of the shock."

"If you do need help, you know where to find me."

"Yes, thank you!" I shouted politely and listened tensely as heavy footsteps moved away from my room door and Kou knocked on Hanabi's door. I waited another minute until I could be sure that he had moved away. With my pulse still elevated, I activated my microphone again and looked at the screen, where King, with his pants closed, his shirt superficially free of sperm and his hands clasped, on which the veins stood out more clearly than ever, sat quietly in his chair and waited for my answer. He had written: [Should I end the chat?] As soon as he realized he could hear me again, he quickly wrote: [Sorry, I didn't know if I should just turn it off. Was that wrong? I don't want to embarrass you.]

I smiled mildly and somehow I was pleased with his uncertainty. "No, it's all good," I whispered, so as not to betray myself to Kou or even Hanabi. "I locked my room and if he had come in, he would have seen me first anyway. Did you.." I licked my upper lip briefly. "Did you hear what he said?"

[No, it was too quiet for that.]

An actual rock fell from my heart. If King had heard my name and the fact that a man addressed me as "-sama", I could have also revealed my face, my identity and my life story. I had obviously looked too relieved, because King asked: [Why shouldn't I hear it?]

I twisted my mouth. "He called me by my name, that's why."

King's index finger tapped nervously on the side of his smartphone and his free hand had disappeared from the top of the picture. It was obvious that he was thinking about something he didn't like. I waited and didn't even register that the dildo was still inside me. Then King wrote with a visible tremor in his thumb: [Was that your roommate?]

"No, one of my father's bodyguards. Oh by the way, he's a yakuza, has killed who I know many people and practically forces me into prostitution." Mh-hm, I wouldn't say that. Instead, I smiled evasively: "Are you jealous right now?"

I saw King's hand cramp around his smartphone for a moment, in complete contradiction to his message. [No. We're not actually together, well physically. We have no right to demand abstinence from the other. If you meet other, real men, that's absolutely okay with me.]

"Do.. you meet other women?" I asked, trying not to sound too offended.

A short [Yes.] shattered my soul. I stared at those three small, nasty letters and hardly noticed how there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. It was only when I heard Hanabi's voice whispering, "Hina-oneesan? May I come in?", I tore myself out of my paralysis and said with a smile: "King, I have to break up now. We'll write later, yes?"

Without waiting for his response, I ended the video chat. When I closed the laptop, I heard one last pinging from the speakers, but I couldn't take it anymore. "Hana-neechan, I.. I can't talk today, okay?", I called quietly in the direction of the bathroom and a mumbled and yet clearly sad "Ok.." was my sister's answer. A door clicked and I tore the mask off my head, whimpering. GOD FUCKING SHIT, WHY DID THAT HURT SO MUCH?!