Queen of whores

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The story of my life.
Of my boring, trivial, unimportant life. Gojyo had made it important. Indulging in praising thoughts I snuggled up to his neck once again and hummed in contentment. I could feel his back moving, slightly. He had made a sound of happiness, too.

That he had offered me the money, however, had been the most terrible moment in my life. Turning me into a whore. Who moaned and screamed for money. Or remained silent.
I knew he had wanted to give it to me to help me, to make it seem not that bad for me, but that had been even worse. Paid sex and endearment was easier to bear than honest love, so he thought…and so had I thought before, too. If I had been forced to choose I’d have taken the first without hesitation.

Both things were bad for a Sanzo priest so it didn’t matter which one I’d have chosen. Gojyo had forced me to choose the second one.
The steady rhythm of his back moving up and down made me feel tired. He seemed totally relaxed: I could listen to him slowly inhaling and rather forcefully exhaling…no. He had fallen asleep? He had, right under me, fallen asleep, the bastard. The only time I longed for him to be awake and just support me with his presence, he fell asleep.

It was not often that I needed him like that…because remembering hurt. Behind that happy ending and joy there was still a lot of obscure bitterness. It stuck in the walls of that room, it was in the alcohol, in the smell of it, it was what I had touched when clenching the sheets. I asked myself whether he was happy now, whether he had left that bitterness in that room and had replaced it with something else or whether he still carried it with him, in a place I had no access to. He had fallen asleep under me, which meant that he felt safe and that he trusted me.

That he trusted me meant also that he would have smiled at me from above if I had killed him in his sleep. I felt so very proud of owning his life…no one would trust a priest with a gun so much as to give him his life, but he knew more about me than just that I was a priest and was married to the gun.
I knew that I defined myself by how much of him I owned.

My self-confidence had dwindled over the years, but no one had noticed it because I had used to cover it with arrogance and the well-known grumpiness. The more people groped me the cheaper and dirtier I felt. By the end of it I did feel like a whore. Those guys fucked me senseless in their heads, I could see it in their eyes…and the bulges in their pants. While I went to my room I stayed in their heads, squirming on the beds under moans which connoted that I enjoyed it so much, and that they all were such good fuckers, that they made me scream at the skilfullness with which they worked on my ass. Of course I was the needy one who got fucked.

I did never receive any money. What I received were wounds which went deeper than the three battle scars I carried with me on my back. They turned me into a whore against my will, and the only way to get rid of those thoughts was by shooting them…and I hadn’t been allowed to do that, anymore, after Gojyo had had that talk with me.

“Look Sanzo…” he had licked his lips, “that…shooting thing, y’know…”

Had he already been in love with me at that moment? Or before that moment? I could only guess. If so, then I had had a real love next to those false and twisted variations of love…and although they never touched me I felt like my hands were dirty and would only dirty things I would touch.

The sting of the cheapness they had made me feel often enough let me clench my teeth, and I had felt that I could not deal with it on my own anymore. Gojyo was still sleeping under me, that idiot, but I knew how to get him to wake up in a second.
I carefully lifted my pelvis a bit and then, with well-calculated force, strived to touch his sweet spot. Gojyo gasped in surprise and clenched the sheets. Mission completed.

“You idiot…” I said in a tired voice, suddenly regretting waking him up, because I felt weak yet again.

Gojyo was silent, probably trying to detect the cause of my sullenness.
I buried my fingers in the warmth of his hair, winding it round my forefinger, and had just started to do that with the middle finger as well when Gojyo turned his head to look at me. He knew that I had not done this just for the fuck of it. Those eyes searched for the reason for the rude awakening and they searched in my eyes, so I closed them and turned my head to the other side.

“Honey…?” he asked but it sounded more like a word to comfort me than a question.

“You can’t help me with it,” I replied coldly, just saying what I had realized that moment. Our relationship was deep, but not deep enough for talking about such things.
Occasionally, I came to him to tell him that I was happy or to talk about the journey or even the rain, but even so, this was still rare. But what I really felt did not pass my lips. Gojyo looked hurt every time I turned cold when he had asked a question that was not superficial enough. Either he had to learn, or I had to learn, how to deal with it, otherwise this form of talk would only lead to severe problems.

“Why did you wake me, then?”

He had not said it with an angry voice but it sounded more angry than any shout could have. I quickly turned my head, clenching my teeth and trying to hold back the tears, because I regretted it so much. Gojyo smiled and lay down again.

“At least I could make you look at me again. That wasn’t a reproach. It’s the ice I can’t stand.”

I rubbed my chin against his back, then moved forward and rolled down his body so that I was lying in front of him and could look him in the eyes without having him twist his neck. Attentive red framed by a thin circle of red was examining me. I could not believe that some minutes ago he had still been asleep, and yet now could look at me in that way. It was the kind of look I’d notice when he was demanding something of me…I just had to find out what it was.
He sighed and closed his eyes again, but the corners of his mouth rose to form a smirk.

“What did it feel like…to be so confined to that bed with a sexy as hell kappa…and play a whore?”

He opened his eyes again and showed me his cheekiest smirk; the one before had just been a poor imitation of this one. I couldn’t but clench my teeth at that and tried hard to not change my expression, but I didn’t succeed at all. By glaring at him I tried to make him look away…but he didn’t. We knew that his comment had been one which could not be topped by any of my scornful looks, so I turned my head in defeat.
A hand sneaked up my shoulder to caress my nape and I couldn’t but snuggle up to it. But while he was busy with that I was already working on a plan to retaliate. It had to be something that was convenient and pleasant for me, and also something that would serve as punishment for him.

I moved away from him, sat up and slowly turned around. Gojyo was given the most wrathful gaze he had ever had to bear. I tried to put as much hate and arrogance into that as I could…and I felt pleased when insecurity suddenly turned up in his eyes. Now I was the one to smirk…and I took advantage of the situation and lifted my head a bit more to look down on him. Then I shortly licked my lips and launched into my attack.

“Now I will show you what it felt like…to be abused by a drunken bastard who was so blotto that he didn’t even recognize the virtuous priest,” I sneered, and pinned his arms down.
Gojyo was staring at me wide-eyed, I suppose, surprised at that quick change. Lust could get me awake in a second…it was the package of thoughts I needed to push the other pack of unpleasant ones to the back of my mind. Currently they consisted of an inextricable knot and I knew that when this was the case I was to leave them alone. They’d probably be set free in a nightmare again, but worrying about them right then was of no use either.

I smirked and pressed my knee against his throat. Just the image of Gojyo opening his mouth and gasping turned me on so much that I shivered as lust made my flesh crawl. Now that he couldn’t free himself anymore without risking some serious bruises I leaned to my right and reached under the bed to get the sash of my robes. Gojyo had taken my clothes off before we had gone to bed with each other, so I knew where they were.

Before Gojyo could shove my knee aside I quickly grabbed his hands and wound the sash around them…and of course, I never forgot to smirk. As Gojyo saw himself in the role of the victim, as he realized how I was going to do this, and that it must have been the same feeling for me, he quickly turned his head to look away. I finished my work by winding the piece of cloth round the bedpost. Then I sat back to properly enjoy the sight. It didn’t happen that often but the few times it happened I was all hot for it. New meaning was attached to his bare skin…sweat did not just mean that he was enjoying it so much in his lust and a hard-on did not just mean that he longed for sex.
And sex was different, too. It was not just putting something into something, moving back and forth and bearing it, but it meant submission and domination.

Gojyo currently represented a typical bottom. Chained to the bed, wearing a frightened expression (which he wore on purpose, of course), not able to use his hands to defend himself against anything, and finally, the most delicate part of his body standing at attention. He closed his eyes and opened them slowly again. His breathing had changed, and his pose, too, he had just adapted and accustomed himself to it. After that moment of incertainty his eyes showed me shyness, fear and total submission. He trusted me so much that fear was not real fear anymore in his case but the fear I desired, that I wished and needed to see to get hard, as well. Fortunately, he had also a vivid imagination, so he could dream the dream I dreamed, too.

He swallowed and slightly turned his head to the side again, but his eyes were always glued to mine. He was examining me again, analyzing every gesture, gaze and move, but only in order to react in an appropriate way and please me as much as possible. But still…I did not feel complete yet. Again I reached down and rummaged through the pile of clothes on the floor until I finally found my gloves. Gojyo followed my moves with rapt attention, still eyeing me warily when I put the arm warmers on. There had to be something defining me as the one in charge and control, something which would make me stand out against the one who lay below me, something identifying me as the one who had the power to decide over that man.

Besides, I knew that Gojyo liked them. In situations like this he could come just from the touch of the leather on his skin, and often enough I had made use of that. So when I put them on I could watch him getting a bit more excited and agitated; he opened his mouth and I heard a mix of breathing and gasping, sounding like an enchanting melody. He lifted his pelvis and rubbed his knees against each other while licking his lips in anticipation. If just the sight of these simple gloves excited him so much, you could imagine what touch did to him.

It turned him into my slave.

With a grin that would have topped the Cheshire Cat’s, I leaned forward so that my face was just above his belly while I put my hand down on his shin, made sure the leather would also touch his skin, and then started to slowly move upwards towards his knee. Gojyo swallowed. The flush on his cheeks darkened slightly and his eyes became unfocussed. As I rubbed my palm against his knee he jerked and stretched out his leg. I could feel it trembling under my touch…
After thoroughly taking care of that spot I continued moving upwards, and as I reached his thigh, I put my second hand on the other inner thigh and stroked him there.

Gojyo jerked and even gasped, I knew that those parts were the more sensitive ones…and the ones where he could feel the leather exceptionally well. My whore was panting…I had not even touched his sacred parts yet. I took a deep breath and finally decided to tantalize him a bit more before allowing him to come. My hands left his thighs, only one continued the journey. As slowly as possible I moved it along his thigh, then brushed over the part where his pubes started and let it move further upwards. Gojyo protested. He had expected me to touch his balls and cock, but he was proven wrong. He was my whore, the whore who was supposed to be silent and not let the other know his real identity.

His moves and his constant panting spurred me on; I let my hand slide across his belly, but more firmly now, pressing my palm against his skin so that he could really feel the leather on it. All of a sudden he moved his arms in ecstasy and squirmed…and with a totally desperate face he moaned.

“Sanzo, no, please…”

I moved my hand back and forth, more quickly and more forcefully. His skin was so wet from sweat that I almost chafed his skin. As I saw those spots shining a bright red, I finally had to give in. I shifted my weight on my hand, leaned forward like a cat ready to bite into its victim’s neck and reached forward to put the piece of leather of my other hand on his nipple. I kept rubbing his belly until I was panting myself; Gojyo had gone postal in the meantime. Moans and screams filled every second, he could not inhale as quickly as he exhaled in groans, and he moved his feet in a constant rhythm, drawing circles on the sheets with his toes, stretching them and bending his legs.

I wanted to kiss him. Kiss those lips which were blood-red, feel the blood surging through them and taste it myself…but I pulled myself together and just focused on pleasing him instead of myself. When I noticed those tiny spots turning red, redder than before, he set up one final cry and tensed up.

“Please, Sanzo,” he begged, hoarse from screaming and trying to hold it back. “It’s so embarrassing, please…”

Now he rubbed his feet against the sheets, an expression of his lust, as I had already learned. I knew he was enjoying it so much but also feeling bad about giving in to it. He didn’t like it to be teased that way, he thought it was embarrassing to get hard just because of the touch of leather, and he always felt intense shame when he found himself responding to the touch in that way.
But I had accepted it. The first time I had seen what effects that fabric had on him I had smirked and thought about how to use it as efficiently as possible. It didn’t occur to me that it should have been embarrassing to enjoy something like that so much…it was just a simple fetish…

But Gojyo didn’t share my opinion. I could watch him blushing in the cutest way when I touched him with something made of leather…I found it just sweet that he had such a crush on it.
I licked my lips and started rubbing his nipple with my palm. That was close to an overload. The sensation the simple touch caused was expressed in a way that let me moan. Gojyo first bucked, then lifted his torso, his lips parted, his teeth bared and clenched, his eyes tightly shut and his cock twitching in such a delicate way that I was tempted to touch it with my other hand.

His back didn’t touch the sheets at all anymore, just his shoulders buried in the depths of the pillow…and I took advantage of that and pressed my palm against one of Gojyo’s love spots. I knew exactly where it was; I could have found it blindfolded. It was just a millimetre above the end of his coccyx.
I could tear a passionate cry from him with that and as I finally put my flat hand between his ass cheeks to touch them with the leather, too, the cry died away. His whole body was trembling because every muscle was tensed to its maximum, his hands were shaking, his pelvis twitching. I could watch his mouth moving slightly, he looked like he might start to gag any second…while he desperately tried to breathe and say something at the same time. Or not say something…rather gasp something.

This was the state I had desired to see. Gojyo was overripe, his face was as red as his belly, his eyes materialized desire and lust, the gaze vacant, however…but so much lying in this vacant look.
I quickly took my hand away from his nipple and while I still slowly moved my other hand back and forth between his ass cheeks I gripped his cock. Tightly. Made him feel the leather on the most sensitive part of his body. I could feel the thick vein…and I could feel the piece of hard flesh twitching…but that was not enough, yet. Touch alone did not make him cum this time.

As I finally pressed my thumb against the slit he shuddered, tensed up again and screamed as loudly as he could. It sounded like he had burst into tears with that scream…he may have done so, indeed, but there was pure pleasure expressed by it. A second scream affirmed that I had done everything right this time. I could learn, too. White fluid welled from his cock as he still squirmed and gasped; Gojyo came in a marvellous way. All the beauty, all the pain, all the love which had gathered in him during that torture was set free. It hit me like his cries penetrated my ears. It felt wonderful.

I let myself drown in it…it was more like Gojyo guiding me than the other way round…although I held his cock in my hand he made me feel it, too. He moaned in such pleasure and love that I removed my hand from his ass and leaned down so that I touched his flank with my forehead. I needed to feel him, I needed to feel the jerks of his orgasm and I needed to feel the heat of his body. He didn’t disappoint me.
When Gojyo felt that I was touching him there as well, his moves stopped. He just tensed up and held his breath…until the last drop of semen dripped from his cock. Then with an exhausted moan his body sank down, his limp dick slid from my hand and the heat left my forehead.

I opened my eyes again and stared at my right hand. It was covered in velvet. White, transparent, warm velvet. Gojyo was breathing harshly under me, trying to recover from the severe attack. My tongue darted out to lick my lips, I did not notice it. My fingers were trembling too, I had squeezed his cock a bit too tightly. When I finally became aware of myself again I rubbed my fore- and middle finger against each other, feeling the fluid on my skin again. A piece of Gojyo. A present.
Only for me.

I gave in to a sudden impulse and moved my hand towards my mouth, but shortly before I dared to stick out my tongue I glanced over at Gojyo. His lips were slightly parted so that I could see a hint of white, fascination: his eyes were staring attentively at me, his brow slightly furrowed, anticipation, adoration. Surprise, that I was willing to accept it so uncompromisingly. Endless adoration.
I wanted to show him that I took everything he gave me, that I accepted everything connected with him, and that what he owned was mine, too.

I closed my eyes and closed my mouth around those two fingers.
Salty…warm…viscid…his most intimate gift. With an expression devoid of lust but filled with honest love I sucked on my fingers, licking them clean from what it was on a purely factual level: his cum.
Once my other three fingers were cleaned, too, I opened my eyes with my pinkie still in my mouth. What I saw made me melt and my cock sent a thrill right up to my brain. The submissive look had returned to his eyes, but it had changed since the last time he had worn it. Love and so much thankfulness were in it that I had to smile. I had feared I had put him off with accepting his gift in that way, just licking my fingers clean from his cum in front of his eyes…but he had taken it the way I had hoped for him to take it.

After some moments Gojyo became twitchy again. He moved his arms and squirmed, his mien desperate and…a kind of needy. He pulled on the sash and tried somehow to free himself from it, but it didn’t work. All half-breed strength aside, a Sanzo knot was not to open that easily, except for the one who knew the trick. I bit down on my lower lip, enjoying the sight again. This was the second his love had won. He was begging me to free him, he wanted to hold me in his hands and he wanted to please me. My red, hard cock was unmissable, the blush on my cheeks wasn’t either, and the way I breathed alone would have told him that I tried to hold myself back from giving in to my lust…if he had just listened.

But I couldn’t allow it…it was the thing I was feeling embarrassed about. He would thank me for this great time, for this marvellous proof of my love and for the pleasure I had made him feel which was only possible because I knew him so well. If he had touched me now I’d have flinched…and I didn’t want him to see and feel that…I didn’t want to hurt him. I loved him, loved him more than ever at that moment, but I could not let him touch me. So I ignored his attempts to free himself and his silent pleads and just pulled the gloves from my arms. Then I got up and sat down on his chest again, forcing him to mind his breath. And Gojyo obviously liked it.

I had moved so close to his head that my dick was just above his face…he’d only need to lift his head just slightly and he’d have been able to take it into his mouth. As he showed some inclination to do just this I shouted “NO!!!” in a commanding and angry voice, and Gojyo immediately let his head sink down. He gazed at me wide-eyed. Whether he was conscious of that or not, his breath hit my cock, which just made it all worse. A shudder ran down my spine and I was just about to jerk forward when I managed to get ahold of my self-control again.

Gojyo briefly closed his eyes and when he opened them again, he looked…obedient. It must have taken a lot of self-disciplne to remain so calm while having the hard dick of his lover hovering centimetres above his mouth. But he knew when he was to obey and when he was to rebel. If he rebelled now he’d never get my dick into his mouth. If he obeyed he’d possibly be allowed to suck me off. I knew that he only wanted to please me as much as I had him, although he had felt embarrassed as hell, but never mind. Pleasure was pleasure in that case.

I could feel his breath coming in puffs, he was so excited about having me offering myself so openly, though so untouchably, to him. Despite my prolonged torture until I was fully satisfied, the sensations my hard cock now caused me to feel didn’t leave me cold, I welcomed them…as they just literally forced me to torture him some more to properly indulge in this scene. As said, it didn’t happen that often. Mostly Gojyo just wanted to stroke and pet me and we were lying there side by side and purring and teasing each other or just enjoying the soft touch of the other. Or he wanted sex from me.

In those cases he just opened the door of my room, came closer with that demanding and stern look in his eyes, and leaned towards me to whisper into my ear ‘Sex, you whore.’
And in most cases I didn’t need more than that. The words, which were always the same, always pushed the right buttons in my mind so that when he undressed me I was already semi-hard. He came to me like he came to a whore, demanding sex and not putting up with any refusal.

Once…only once I had dared to refuse, told him that I was not in the mood for it because I was pissed. His eyes had narrowed, his fingers had closed around my throat and he had nudged me towards the bed. Of course I had tried to loosen his grip, but that had been impossible. I had flown through the air, hit the mattress and the wall with my head, and only one second later he was towering over me, handcuffing me and tying me to the bed. I had protested, now totally pissed at the throbbing pain in my head. I had tried to kick him and I had tried to free myself from the cuffs but I had only succeeded in rubbing myself raw on the metal.

“You fucking a-”

He had shoved something into my mouth. I froze. It was not his cock, nor a piece of cloth. As I looked down I realized that it was pieces of paper…money…
I could feel my heart aching. The pain in my head became worse and I was close to tears, though, trying to suppress the thoughts that wanted to break free and swamp me. With a hurt expression I watched him getting naked, and as he accidentally touched my belly while unbuttoning my pants I flinched. I was used to his touch, but in different situations. Gojyo had ignored it.

It was a reign. Usually I was the one who reigned but from time to time Gojyo forced me to hand it over.
When he had managed to free me from my pants, I had not bucked again. He looked up again, and what he saw had hit him hard. I could see the façade crumbling in a second, the aura of that weird power fading immediately, his lust doused like a candle. It was then when I realized that it had been supposed to be a game. I was his whore, I knew that, but once he had treated me like a true whore I did not want to be it anymore. I was just a different kind of whore for him…but he had made me feel how a true prostitute must have felt, forced to comply, forced to fulfill every desire, forced to please.

He had thought he could trigger my ’unwilling victim’ button but this time it had been too much for me. Feelings had been involved which had destroyed that atmosphere, I loved him too much to enjoy treatment like this, even if it was just for pleasure. That day I had just not been in the mood…or ready to draw pleasure from being treated like a whore. The only thing I had felt when he had touched me that harshly had been pain. I’d have needed his soft touch, a gentle kiss, the assurance that he also loved me if I didn’t or couldn’t give him sex that day, but he had interpreted my ‘No’ as a dare.

As he saw my tears he froze. I felt cold, I was shivering. Minutes before he had entered the room I had opened the window to get some fresh air and I hadn’t yet closed it. Normally if I felt cold we just moved our banter to under the blanket but I was lying on it, and I could not pull it up to my neck because I was tied to the bed. My cock had shrivelled to the size of a finger, from the cold and from my agony.
He looked at me with pitiful eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but remained silent. Then he finally reached towards me to take away the money. A second flood of tears streamed down my face and I turned my head.

He had freed me from the cuffs then, pulled the blanket up to our necks and held me. Softly petting my head, gently stroking my back, kissing me lightly, nuzzling my cheek with his nose.
We hadn’t needed any words; I hadn’t needed his apology in words to know he felt sorry. He’d have done more for me if I had let him, he had wanted to get up during this but I had held him back, desperately. He had not hesitated for a second, he had just moved under the blanket again and embraced me.

It had just been a game which had gone wrong. The wrong time, the wrong situation and the wrong mood. Things like that just happened. I didn’t blame him for my pain, he had meant to tease me, not make me desperate. So an apology wasn’t needed at all, and I hoped that he’d know that.
It had just been a game which had gone wrong.
But what had stayed was reality, love.


Thinking back to that day caused me various feelings. Nowadays, regret that I hadn’t been able to enjoy it, curiosity as to what he might had done to me then, and sadness that I had not been able to give him what he had wanted from me. He had still come to me and whispered those words into my ear in that tone and from that day on I had always willingly given him what he had wanted. That incident had only served to make me trust him even more, wanting him even more and desiring his cock in my ass. Deliberately or not. He had whetted my appetite for this kind of game.

I licked my lips and rubbed my ass cheeks against his chest. I was thankful that I had said ’No,’ and that I had felt his real power that time. The helplessness had felt good. In retrospect. Something I longed for.
Gojyo jerked, I knew that I had just woken his cock again.

“The whore has grown up…” I whispered and let a faint smile play on my lips.

Gojyo looked up. I could see his face clearly, but he must not have seen mine because my dick was blocking his view.

“She has…” he repeated, eyeing me warily.

I was thankful he was living in the same world I was. Where negative words like fear, sadness and loneliness didn’t necessarily become negative. They had lost their negative meaning. When I was worried about things, Gojyo would sit down next to me and try to be there or not there, whatever I needed. He knew that I wouldn’t come to him to tell him to hold me or console me, he knew that he had to come to me if he wanted to console me.

If I felt lonely he came to me. He was society for me. His opinion did -although I wouldn’t freely admit it- matter a lot to me. His laughter would entertain me, his stories would be worth listening to. If he said I looked weird in certain clothes I’d go to change them, if he thought my hair looked like a hell of a chaos but nevertheless cute, I wouldn’t comb it that morning. We were forced to keep silence during the day and when the other two were around us, we didn’t want to disappoint anyone nor put anyone off…mostly to spare ourselves the trouble of explaining. I couldn’t live with Hakkai knowing I was fucking Gojyo, and still having him look me in the eyes when pouring coffee into my cup. It was my secret and I had the right to keep it as such.

There was no lust anymore, neither in my eyes nor in his. Mine were cold, determined; at least I wanted them to look like that. I put my forefinger on my cock, pressed it down and made it touch his lips. Gojyo reacted by closing his eyes and slightly moving his lips, and he even touched it with his tongue. I tolerated it. He wanted to please me because he loved me, not because he got off while doing it. He turned his head, opened his mouth and sucked on the underside of my cock. I could feel his tongue tracing along the ominous vein, which made me tense up and throw my head back.

It was embarrassing, too. But Gojyo knew me, he understood me, my body language and my thoughts, I did not need to fear any bitter remark coming from him. Just when he closed his mouth with skin and flesh between his teeth I pressed it down harder, gripped his shoulder and moaned in pain and pleasure. He shortly let go, slightly twisted his head and bit into it again. My pelvis jerked forward, which forced Gojyo to bite down harder on the skin to keep it in his mouth and I screamed. His hot breath on my skin made me more responsive than I wished to be…

Gojyo made a rumbling sound in his throat, something close to humming, and I could feel his lips vibrating and teasing me so much that I drew back for a second, adjusted myself and shoved my dick into his mouth. Gojyo gagged and intended to turn his head to the side but I didn’t let him, I couldn’t wait any longer. Maybe lust was present. Somewhere.
I moved backwards again, slowly, so that I could feel his lips sliding along it. When just the tip remained in his mouth he opened his eyes again and I could see a hint of thankfulness in them…which kind of amused me. I smirked and bent down to kiss his forehead…he should never forget that under these brutal actions and humiliations I deeply loved him.

Gojyo smiled around my cock, he had been longing just for that, I could feel it. It was a play of lust and love, none really dominant, rather both on the same level.
Overpowered by love, I cupped his chin and gently stroked his cheek with my thumb. Encouraged by that, Gojyo started sucking my cock, moving his lips over the tip of it, a move that sent me straight into hell. I squeezed his chin until he moaned and until I became conscious of what I was doing again…but Gojyo kept teasing me like that, cheekily sticking his tongue into the small slit, licking the piece of flesh like it was a scoop of ice cream. I’d give him ice cream if he wanted it so badly.

“Gojyo…” I gasped and dug my nails into his shoulder. “Fucking stop licking me like an ice cream cone…”

“Ommy” he mumbled, and again I squirmed at feeling the breath of hot air and his moist lips on my cock.
It was as if what I’d said had no effect on him. With even more devotion he sucked on my cock, teasing it so thoroughly as to finally make me give him his ice cream, but there was one thing he hadn’t reckoned with. Namely, my pride.
Sometimes I couldn’t put it aside, sometimes it shone through, still, while coming. Before his skilful teasing could make me come I rocked forward and shoved my cock in to the hilt again. Then I started fucking him. Wildly, brutally and longingly.

I once noticed his arms tensing up, I guess he wanted to try and free himself from the sash again, but then I focused on fucking him again. He had squeezed his eyes shut, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it.
When I finally came I took Gojyo with me. In a second I had wound my legs round his back and squeezed, tensing up the muscles which made the orgasm feel even more intense and as a side effect took Gojyo’s breath. He gasped, but I didn’t let go of him. Pleasure floated through my body as intensely as never before; every time it felt like the orgasm before had been a poor imitation of the current one…

I jerked and squirmed in my bliss, trying to let him feel and show him how much I enjoyed it and that all credits belonged to him.
Gojyo swallowed my ice cream as deliberately as always, he loved it when he could get a drop of it and now he got the whole load. He greedily still sucked on my cock to milk me and get more of it although it was already enough…so the sensations never ceased until he really let go of my cock. But I was already too exhausted to keep my body tense so I bent forward to lean my chest and head against the wall while already working on the knot of the sash with shaky fingers. Gojyo was so skilled that he even drew one last gasp from me before I fell into that field of soft cotton wool. My mind became weary in a second, my vision blurred, my will extinct. Fortunately, I had managed to open the knot before falling into agreeable tiredness.

Since he could move his hands again, he groaned. They must have gone numb in the meantime, but nevertheless he pulled me closer to him to make me lie down.
I liked it when he did that. Not always but half the time I appreciated him squeezing me to death after sex. Both of us were wet, our bodies still hot, my mouth dry, his probably not. I didn’t mind this time…I had done something dirty so it was all right to also feel dirty afterwards…and it felt good to feel like that sometimes, one could not live only with happiness and undebauchness; one needed a bit of sin from time to time.

I licked my lips and put my hand on his chest, gently stroking his nipple, not teasing him but lovingly caressing it. Gojyo knew that I didn’t mean to tease him but just that I wanted to play a bit, let go of the tension and emotional stress of fearing I wouldn’t be able to please him. He had pleased me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t do something wrong. He often told me I was his queen of whores, which meant that I was perfect for him, but sometimes, especially after sex when we were lying close to each other, I felt like I had reason to worry about that. When he didn’t stroke my back anymore but just held me…or when he sighed, for no reason, when I was about to fall asleep in his arms, I felt these self-doubts rising inside.

I wanted to give him everything I could, whatever he wanted to take I was eager to give him but at these times I doubted that I had succeeded in doing that. There were other guys who were more skilled than I was, who were more beautiful, who had more stamina…and I was afraid he might find them.
Gojyo had put his hand on my back and now just held me…but his expression affirmed that I had done a good job on fucking the hell out of him and that, more importantly, that was to his liking.
A twinkle of his could kill my deepest doubts.

I sighed and put my hand down. He’d hold me until I fell asleep…without demanding anything from me. My presence was enough to make him fly to the moon and back to me…
And this all because of a whore. Just because of a whore he had almost deflowered.
He had, indeed, but when he had been sober. I was still carrying a reminder of that night, on my body and in my soul, he had made sure to make me never be able to forget it.

He had known that he had fucked a whore that time and he had known who it had been.
It had been me, Genjyo Sanzo Houshi Sama, the 31st of China.
Just a priest.
Just a whore.
Just a desperate, for love longing, and willing whore.
Finally promoted to the queen of whores.

_________