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Creampuff	By : LadyKannah3695 Category: +. to F > Eyeshield 21 Views: 4807 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21 and make no money from this fiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Creampuff
- 1
Mamori wakes up in the Football team’s clubhouse with her hands tied behind her back and a very demonic tormentor ready to take advantage of her. [Hiruma/Mamori]

Warnings: M/F, Oral, Bond, MDom, Rim, N/C, D/s, WS

Author’s Note: I enjoy the show Eyeshield 21. In reality I hate football but for some reason I adore this damn manga. My favorite couples are Sena and Mamori, Hiruma and Sena, and of course, this one. This story is actually for my darling slave. This is his favorite couple from the show. Of course, in our reality I’m the Hiruma and he’s the Mamori. Cue evil laughs!

"Creampuff”

“Ugh,” Mamori groaned. Her head was aching. She wasn’t sure what was going on or how she had gotten here. With a sudden pang of fear, she realized she didn’t know where she was at all. Her limbs felt as if she had just gone one-on-one with Kurita. Her eyes weakly fluttered open to find nothingness. Mamori stared momentarily into the blackness. Trying to move her hands to rub the darkness from her eyes she found them to be unbearably bound.

Mamori tugged in desperation against her binds. Her hands were tied behind her back, slightly above her head. She recognized the worn wooden handle of her mop. Someone had tied her hands to her mop! Her wrists were starting to feel numb.

She was beginning to feel frantic. Mamori started to cry, the tears soaking into her blindfold. She tried to move her legs but discovered that they too were tied to either side of the chair she was in. Her womanly parts were exposed. It was in that moment she realized that that she wasn’t wearing any panties, in fact she wasn’t wearing any clothes at all. The soft stale air pressing against her nether lips began to arouse her slightly.

She tried to remember the events that had lead up to her being incarcerated in this blackened prison.

- 0 -

Earlier that day…

“Come on fucking shrimp! Catch the fucking ball!” Hiruma’s voice rang out across the field. Mamori felt the pencil she was writing with begin to crack in her fingers. No one talked to her Sena like that. She hated the way that despicable captain treated his team. Her eyes followed him across the field as he chased the Hah Brothers with an AK47.

She shook her head and returned to her work. After all, she was the team manager and it was her job to keep everything under control since Hiruma was a fucking nutcase. She scribbled out plays and tallied improvements on the team’s docket at lightning speed, ignoring the flaxen haired demon as he hounded his team across the field.

Shotgun blasts slammed through her ears like thousands of pebbles raining onto a metal roof. Mamori looked up and her eyes found Hiruma. He was attractive in his uniform, tall and lean with well-formed muscles and great calves that were undeniably sexy.

The plastic of her pencil snapped in her hand. She didn’t even feel the pain as she tried to forcibly shake the thoughts from her head. Hiruma was not sexy!

Mamori bit her lip and refocused on the clipboard in her hand. She reached next to her and began to sip at her water bottle. It was hot today. She was feeling a little dizzy. She should have probably brought sunscreen for Sena.

The practice went on in front of her but the players were beginning to blur. She probably needed more water. She grabbed her water bottle and chugged it. It was so hot she thought she must be sweating through her shirt.

Mamori looked around dizzily. No one else looked as hot as she did. The players were sweaty from running the field, but Suzuna was on the bench today because the American cheerleaders were busy with school. Doburoku was also benched and neither of them looked very parched. More water, she thought. She just needed more water. Why was her mouth so dry?

When the practice ended the boys ran back to the locker room at top speed and disappeared to their respective homes. Suzuna chased after Sena on her skates. Even in her dizziness, Mamori felt a slight pang of anger. The little raven haired girl was getting a little too close to Sena for her liking. Sena was too young for girls.

Before she knew it, she was the last one on the field.

Mamori tried to stand up and walk but it felt as if she was moving through molasses. Something was very wrong. Maybe I should lie down, she wondered to herself. Mamori wandered towards the locker room with muddled thoughts and suddenly darkness began to eat at the sides of her vision.

She crashed face first into the turf. Mamori was no longer conscious. She didn’t know that a tall figure leaned down and picked her up, carrying her bride-style into the football team’s clubhouse and proceeded to tie her up. She didn’t know that that very same person had drugged her water bottle so that he could do just that.

All that she knew was that she woke up with a banging head in complete darkness.

- 0 -

Mamori tried to scream, but there was duct tape over her mouth. In a fierce panic she tugged against her binds with all of her might. She bruised her marshmallow flesh with each tug and moaned against the gag. The chair rattled against the wooden floor, but it was all no use. There was nothing she could do. She collapsed against her ties, sweat dripping down her exposed body.

“Ke ke ke ke ke ke ke…”

The brunette jolted forward. She knew that laugh. She knew it all too well. She stopped crying immediately. Her tears were replaced with anger as she fought against her binds with new fervor. She was going to wrap her fingers around his disgusting neck.

“It’s no use, fucking manager.” The demon informed her. A long finger traced the outline of her face. Mamori shivered against his touch. His fingers were inexplicably long and thin, making them feel like probes as he followed the natural curves of her body to her breasts. He tweaked her nipples and she sighed involuntarily against her gag.

He smiled, his fangs glinting in the dim light. “You know, Manager.” He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I have been meaning to do this for a while. You’re always so gung-ho, getting in my way, following that fucking shrimp around like you’re his mother. It’s about time you get put in your place.” Her demonic tormentor sneered.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re not gagged. No one is on campus. No one can hear you scream. Thing is, I doubt you’re going to be screaming in anything but pleasure.” He squeezed her breasts again. She growled.

A sudden rip made her scream. The duct tape was torn from her lips along with pieces of her skin. Tears sprang to her eyes. She whimpered slightly and he leaned forward to kiss her burning lips forcibly, his devilishly long tongue tracing the outlines of her mouth. He blew on her lips to cool the pain. Mamori shivered, feeling slightly sick.

“Hiruma! God damn it!” she screamed. “Let me out of here!” Mamori struggled with her bindings. “You’re sick!” Hiruma’s finger was at her lips and she ceased screaming. She realized this was stupid since he did not strike her or shove anything into her mouth. She could scream around a finger and yet his finger held so much authority.

“Shut up fucking Manager.”

Her mouth closed with a furious pop. She wished she could see him. He must be scoffing with lecherous delight. How had she allowed this to happen? She’d spent so much time protecting Sena she had forgotten to take the time to protect herself!

Hiruma’s finger disappeared from her lips, “Okay fucking Manager, let’s have a little fun. Don’t say anything or you’ll regret it.” He snarled menacingly. Mamori followed his orders and didn’t say a word as Hiruma dropped to his knees and buried his face in her pussy. Mamori sucked a sudden intake of breath between her teeth.

An unnaturally long tongue snaked his way out between his lips and plunged it into her. Mamori’s cries were virginal and squeaky. Hiruma couldn’t help but smile to himself as he ran his tongue up and down the length of her nether lips. He swirled the very tip of his tongue around her clit, making her squirm against her bindings. “Hiruma don’t—” A soft protest escaped Mamori’s lips and Hiruma frowned, removing his tongue from her pussy he leaned away and stood up.

The brunette attempted to look around, but could not see. Why had her pleasure gone away? She made a protesting noise. “I thought I told you not to speak. If you say anything else without my telling you to fucking Manager, I will leave here and let the football team find you tomorrow morning.” Hiruma threatened, crossing his arms over his thin chest. His voice didn’t rise like it did when he was threatening the football team. It was level and somehow more intimidating. “Can you imagine what that fucking shrimp would think of you if he saw you like this?” he laughed to himself.

Mamori froze.

No, she couldn’t imagine what Sena would think if he saw her like this. She was terrified by the thought. She knew better than to answer him by speaking. Mamori simply nodded. She would do whatever he wanted as long as he didn’t tell Sena.

Hiruma smiled with menace. Silently he returned to his place between her legs. He traced her lips with his tongue and thrust it deep within her. He suckled at her clit, releasing it momentarily and blowing on it gently. Without warning, a finger was thrust into her. A moan of pleasure passed her lips before she could bite it back. She was sure that his fingers weren’t supposed to be that long, that no human fingers should feel that good.

The blonde devil swirled his fingers deep within her pussy, feeling her clench desperately on them. “You’re a slut, fucking manager. A regular slut.” He told her pussy, his words reverberating off the deep walls of her most sacred of places. Mamori wanted to say something. To protest. But the reality of the situation was all too real. She was making no effort to stop Hiruma’s diligent tongue and fingers from making their set paths around her sweet petal lips and soaking hole. If that was not slutty behavior she did not know what was.

The worst part was that she was beginning to want it.

His fingers squelched in her juices as he lapped at her gently. She moaned. “See how wet your pussy is getting? And I thought you hated me.” He sneered. She blushed involuntarily, but could not stop her body from spasming with pleasure on his talented tongue. “Why don’t you tell me what a slut you are?” he asked her, looking up at her face.

She shook her head. Mamori knew better than to speak. Hiruma smiled, pulling away from her pussy momentarily. “It’s okay slutty Manager. I give you permission to tell me what a whore you are. Say to me: I am a slut, Hiruma-Sama. I need your tongue on me.” He advised her quietly. He was glad that he had thought to blindfold her because his hard-on was becoming uncomfortably large and he wanted her to be surprised by his size later.

Mamori opened her mouth. The entire visible part of her face was red. She was a pretty picture, bound and sweating, covered in bruises, shaking in her embarrassment. If she was genuinely frightened it would not have been as attractive, but the sticky wetness dripping down her legs gave her away. “Go on,” he insisted. “Say it.”

“I—I am a slut, H—Hiruma-Sama. I n—need your tah—tongue on me.” She stumbled over the words so adorably he thought his cock might explode then and there, but he was a very patient man. He fought the feeling. Mamori dropped her head in embarrassment and he stood up and patted it gently.

“Good girl.”

What was this feeling? She was so… aroused. Mamori had just announced to Hiruma that she was a slut and she could not deny the fact that she had never been more turned on in her life. She had no idea what was so liberating about letting Hiruma take control. Mamori Anezaki was always in control. She was used to it! She was the motherly figure. The older sister. She helped everyone with their problems, got perfect grades, volunteered, everything. But now Mamori was letting someone she hated take total advantage of her while she was tied up in a team storehouse. In retrospect, she could scream for help. She could keep struggling until her bindings broke or have bitten Hiruma’s finger when he placed it on her lips. Tomorrow she could show the police her bruises, but she wouldn’t. Mamori Anezaki wanted to give up her body and her essence. For once, she wanted to be the player not the coach.

A sudden wet feeling on her anus shook Mamori from her thoughts as a full body shiver overtook her. “Oh!” the exclamation flew from her lips in frenzy. She realized immediately she had broken Hiruma’s no speaking rule and wished to God she could clap her hands over her mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he busied himself with forcing the abnormally pointed tip of his tongue into the sweet pucker of her rosebud.

She jolted forward as far as her bindings would allow, attempting in vain to grind herself on Hiruma’s face. He couldn’t help smiling. The uptight manager he was so used to was gone. She was quickly being replaced by sweaty, needy, moaning, sex slave.

Long, calloused fingers danced across her clit as his tongue probed her sweet asshole. Mamori noted how talented his fingers were from years of ball handling. She wished she could move more, to feel the full effect of his mouth and fingers as they invaded her innermost places, lapping at the wetness he found there.

Hiruma extracted his tongue from Mamori’s ass and moved back to her pussy, focusing on her swollen clit. Mamori’s breaths became exceedingly shallow and fast paced. She was getting so close. If she hadn’t been blindfolded she thought she might have lost her ability to see anyway. Sparks of lightning danced across her vision and electricity jolted throughout her body like she’d been hooked up to a car battery. Screams of ecstasy flew from her lips as she reached the pinnacle. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The feeling of letting go was overwhelming.

Almost a little too overwhelming… Oh shit!

Hiruma stood up and backed away to look at her. “H—Hiruma!” Mamori’s choked voice escaped her. “Hiruma you’ve got to let me go.” She begged, feeling a familiar tickle between her legs. She’d been embarrassed enough.

“I thought I told you not to talk, fucking Manager. Why would I untie you?”

“Hiruma-Sama you don’t understand!” she pleaded with him desperately, “Please, please let me go! I won’t go anywhere!” she told him. “Please let me free I have to—” before she could finish the sentence a soft warm trickle escaped between her legs. She’d heard of women having to urinate after orgasm before, but she had never heard of it being so horrible.

The blonde quarterback didn’t say a word as Mamori wet herself, the urine pooling itself on the concrete floor beneath her. He raised an eyebrow. The manager was sobbing by now, tears dripping past her blindfold and onto her exposed breasts. Mamori was mortified. And yet, his erection did not falter. Seeing her so embarrassed was kind of… hot.

When she finished, Hiruma was unbearably hard. His erection pressed against his leg with need. Mamori’s sobs racked the air. The sound was so sexy. He found himself losing focus. Hiruma decided he wanted her. He wanted to see those blue eyes full of tears. He undid the front of his jeans and tugged them down his hips. His erection already escaped through the slit in his boxers. His cock was an impressive nine inches of hard, thick manliness jutting from a soft, patch of curly dirty blonde pubic hair. A drop of precum already glistened at the head.

Hiruma walked over to the sobbing Mamori. He smiled to himself, his teeth glinting in the darkness. He stood next to her and his cock whapped the side of her face. Her sobs ceased abruptly. He removed her blindfold so that she was face to face with his massive girth. She gulped down wet sobs and looked up into his eyes.

His expression faltered momentarily. He could not keep a menacing expression on his face when she was looking at him with those puppy dog eyes, coated in tears. Hiruma regained his composure, “Suck my cock, fucking slutty Manager.” He ordered her and to his surprise, she did not need to be told twice. Leaning over as far as her bindings would allow, Mamori opened her mouth and took his length into it. He moaned in pleasure.

For a beginner, her tongue was surprisingly talented. She closed her eyes in what seemed like pure ecstasy in serving him, licking the mushroom head of his cock like it was one of her favorite creampuffs. He wrapped his long fingers in her hair and pushed her head forward so that she engulfed him all the way to the back of her throat. She murmured her ascent, sending vibrations throughout the length of his cock. He could not help but let out a low grunting moan. “Fuck,”

Hiruma wasn’t sure if it was the soft smell of her arousal in the air mixed with the faded scent of her sweat and urine. Or if it was her embarrassment he smelled. He wasn’t sure if it was her ever present tongue stroking his unbelievably stiff cock or her silky soft cheeks rubbing against him. He wasn’t sure if it was the dew drop tears dripping off of her eyes lashes or the sweet plum shaded bruises on her flawless skin. All Yoichi Hiruma knew was that he was going to cum. He was so fucking close he could taste it. He was going to fuck his little slut’s mouth until he came into her and somehow he knew she was going to relish his taste and swallow it as if she had never tasted anything better in her life.

He was not disappointed.

Hiruma gripped the back of Mamori’s head and pumped into her mouth as if it was her pussy, fucking her forcibly. She gagged slightly, but relaxed her throat so that he could have his way with it. Her tongue made awkward circles around his pounding girth as it ravaged her virgin mouth.

His balls clenched into his body as he came. He let out a guttural sound. A growl deep in his throat and bared his teeth like an animal. His seed filled her mouth and she clenched her eyes shut, tears filling the corners. The scent of Hiruma’s sweat and cum was overwhelming. Arousing…

He rode the last few glorious seconds of his orgasm before pulling out, leaving a small trail of cum dripping down her chin. Mamori was quiet for a moment. She reveled in the taste in her mouth. She closed her eyes. It was lovely. Hiruma’s cum tasted like the custard crème filling of her favorite Kariya creampuffs. Her clit pulsated with new life. She realized then that she was becoming Hiruma’s personal slut, but she didn’t care. She might even want that.

“H—Hiruma-Sama?” she whispered, tentatively. Hiruma was leaning against the roulette table, panting. He was spent after such a forceful orgasm. She repeated his name, slightly louder, stuttering immensely. He looked up at her, raising a pale blonde eyebrow, barely visible in the dim light of the football storeroom.

“What fucking Manager?”

“I—I want—” she was having trouble vocalizing it. She’d never said something so dirty before. This was by far the naughtiest thought she’d ever had, let alone vocalized. She was terrified. Out of her mind with worry about what he would think. What if he put it in his Book of Threats? Worse… what if he denied her?! He looked up at her, intrigued. Hiruma walked over to her, his cock once again standing at full attention.

“What is it you want, fucking Manager?” he asked, his grin glinting. “Tell me.”

“Y—you ins—inside me.” The words tumbled from her mouth, slurred together in her embarrassment, but he heard every one. His grin grew wider. Hiruma ran his fingers through Mamori’s short birch hair, unable to keep his demonic grin at bay.

“I’m not sure I could hear you properly,” he sneered. She looked up at him with tears in her muddled eyes, pulled between shock and desire in a twisted pool of pure sapphire. “Repeat yourself Slutty Manager and make sure I can hear you. Say it loud.” He directed her.

“I want your cock inside me, Hiruma-Sama.” Mamori emphasized every word as loud as she possibly could without screaming. She could feel herself growing wetter with each syllable. She wanted him. She wanted him bad. She wanted to be fucked like a little slut and be his. “Make me yours.” Mamori begged him, tears dripping down her face.

Hiruma worked quickly. Pulling a pocket knife out of his jeans he cut the ropes off of Mamori’s ankles, releasing her from the chair. Painful pinpricks danced through her feet as the blood flow slowly returned there. The devilish blonde slid the knife across her wrists and separated her from the mop in what seemed like nanoseconds. His incredibly skilled quarterback’s fingers retied her hands behind her back in an “arrested” position and he lifted her up, carrying her over to the roulette table he laid her on it, spreading her legs apart he placed her tied hands above her head.

Hiruma gripped her hips and stared at her for a moment. She was lovely, even covered in bruises. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the darkness. It sparkled beneath the swirling purple and blue of her various marks like a statue in the sunlight. Her eyes filled with tears were like shimmering oceans within themselves and even bound she seemed graceful.

He felt powerful. He felt affectionate. He felt… he felt… he wasn’t sure what he felt. Well, he knew that he felt horny. He had to have her.

In one swift movement he was inside her. Her barrier broken, Mamori screamed. Tears welled in her eyes and she bit her lip. Hiruma looked down at her with slight confusion and concern. “You’re a virgin.” He said. She looked up at him with shame and fear on her face, as if afraid he would stop. “I would’ve thought the fucking Shrimp would’ve done you by now.” He smirked. For a moment the old Mamori appeared beneath him as she puffed out her cheeks and glared, an unmistakable blush crossing her cheeks. He jumped on it.

Grinding his length into her to the hilt, he kept up his dialogue, pissing her off enough she didn’t feel the pain of her ripped cherry. “You want to do that little pipsqueak, don’t you Slutty Manager? Do you wish it was his cock ramming into you right now?” he leaned over so that he was whispering directly into her ear, the rough material of his shirt rubbing against her raw nipples.

“I—I—I want you.” Mamori sobbed, uncontrollably, rocking her hips with abandon against Hiruma’s cock, loving the feel of the denim on her knees and legs. “I want you Hiruma-Sama. I want you to do whatever you want to me. Give me to whoever you want. As long as it pleases you. I’ll fuck Sena if you want me to. I’ll suck you off in between quarters. Anything! Anything! Just fuck me now!” she moaned. Her begging made his cock pulsate deep within her soaking pussy. He gripped her hips and rammed his full length into her again and again until she could no longer string proper words together.

“I… might… take you… up on… that offer… Manager.” He said in between breaths. “You’re a lot more compliant once I tie your sweet ass up.” He said, squeezing her ass for emphasis. Images danced through his head as he fucked her. Images of the future. He imagined letting the fucking Shrimp do her in the ass while he took her pussy. He thought about screwing her in one of those cheerleader uniforms the fucking Idiot’s sister wore. He pictured Mamori tied up in various positions, tears spilling down her face, those pouting lips always voicing the same words. More! More! More!

“MORE!” Mamori managed to moan as Hiruma violated her so intimately. Taking her cue, he plunged into her with spectacular force, ravaging her, spreading her, taking her. Mamori rotated her hips on his cock in her desperate attempts to reach a second orgasm. Hiruma leaned over her and licked her neck gently, making small circles. Mamori let out a desperate moan. He sucked at the nape of her neck until a small hickey rose up from the skin. A mark of ownership.

He came first, spilling his seed deep within her sensitive sugar walls. Filling her to the brim with his liquid passion she moaned. The white hot feeling of his cum filling her pussy made her cum. Her entire vocabulary reduced to his name, she screamed it over and over as she clenched on his cock with pure desperation. Mamori never wanted this to end. She would do what it took to stay his.

Hiruma silenced her moans with a kiss. A deep, forceful kiss that invaded her mouth more intimately than the cock inside her. He drew her entire being out through her parted lips. She murmured three indistinguishable words into his mouth. He did not ask her to repeat the muddled phrase. He already knew what it was…

He broke the kiss, pulling out of her. Pulling his knife out for a second time he cut the bindings from her wrists. Without speaking he zipped himself up and walked to the side of the team clubhouse. Leaning against the wall, he slid to the floor, spent.

Mamori flexed her tired wrists; pushing herself up delicately she looked over at him through glassy eyes. Sliding off of the roulette table slowly, she stood shakily on the concrete floor. She waddled over to him as best as her jelly-like legs would take her and sat next to him. Hiruma didn’t say anything. He didn’t push her away or scream at her. This Hiruma was different, one look into his deep emerald eyes, even in the dark, she could tell.

Mamori decided this was not a time for words and leaned over to him, kissing his cheek. She lay down on the cold concrete, placing her head in his lap. Hiruma didn’t protest. She was exhausted. Her eyelids began to flutter closed. Hiruma looked down at her. Her pretty bruised body and tousled birch hair. He placed one hand on her head. Not stroking her hair. Not patting her. Simply a hand to let her know he was there.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as well. In his head danced images of what had just occurred. Hiruma slowly drifted into sleep, Mamori cuddled into his lap, fingers wound through her wispy locks.

Maybe the Manager really wasn’t so bad…

END
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