Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Fifty Days	By : sashocirrione Category: Death Note > Het-Male/Female > L/Misa Views: 2868 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
CHAPTER 8: Week Two
Over the next week, Misa settled into a regular routine. Torture was every other day, giving him the days between to recover. Thankfully, Misa didn't add any new tricks to her repertoire. The old tricks were bad enough. Misa hand-fed him three healthy meals a day. Not sweets and cake, but soup, or meat, or vegetables. Fruits, usually berries, were a special treat that he usually had to eat out of her vagina, though sometimes she would hand-feed those to him as well. He was left strapped into the metal frame most of the time, horizontal at night, vertical during the day, and was unstrapped just for bathroom breaks, showers, sex, and what Misa called "nap time."
For an hour or two each day, usually after sex, she let him lie down in a bed, relaxing, sleeping, or doing whatever he wanted. L didn't know why Misa allowed him to have "nap time" in a real bed; perhaps he'd convinced her it would help his fertility, but every time she let him do it, he had an immense feeling of gratitude toward her. It was such a little thing, but it meant so much, and even though he knew it was completely wrong and illogical, he couldn't help liking Misa for letting him do it. His dread and fear of being strapped to the metal frame was growing day by day, a sickening thought always lurking in the back of his mind even when he was deeply immersed in pleasure with Misa.
Sex happened two or three times a day, and he found himself more and more deeply enmeshed in a web of conflicting feelings about it. He was increasingly looking forward to it, because it felt really good and it relieved the tedium and let him mostly forget about the pain for a while. But getting used to the situation, accepting it, made him feel yet more shameful and dirty as time went on. It was a thick, evil, sticky kind of grime that was working its way deeper and deeper into him. He was immensely sickened that he had never tried to tell Misa "No" or fight her off and run away. He couldn't afford to have a will of his own in sexual matters, and the disgrace of it was eating him inside. He was a whore, buying things from Misa with sex and affection, using it as a tool for manipulation and lust. And, deep inside, he thought that he was as degraded as any whore.
Yet, sometimes, when she was snuggled up against him, he felt a strange, tender intimacy, a hint of love. He wanted to protect her and help her, to somehow strip her of all her evil qualities and lose himself in a love affair with whatever was left. Those moments scared him the most, because he could almost visualize it happening. A part of him wanted to believe that Misa was redeemable, and that was an incredibly dangerous line of thought, a poison that could easily kill him.
When Misa wasn't giving him affection of the fake kind, when there was something real and loving in Misa's behavior, it was always sick in some way. L was sure that when Misa thought of him warmly, she didn't exactly think of him as a person. He could read this attitude in the way Misa cared for him. Misa was spending hours each day on his care, brushing his teeth, brushing his hair, giving him a shower every day. He felt strangely domesticated, or as if he were her doll.
L remembered her creepy dolls. He was just like one of them, with black hair, pale skin and unusual eyes. He was a gothic doll, in a straightjacket, blindfold and skirt, perfect to use as any Halloween decoration. Misa had broken from reality in some profound way. To her, he had become something and someone other than just L. He was her little doll, to play with as she wished, and he was also a substitute for Light. Sometimes, especially during the act of sex, she even called him "Light."
No, Misa certainly wasn't sane. The question was exactly how to work within the odd twists of her mind to push her buttons so she wouldn't kill when the time came. L had already managed to get better treatment, so he thought he had a chance of convincing Misa to let him live, if it came to that. But, Misa's behavior wasn't very predictable and she switched wildly between kindness and cruelty. L needed to learn to work with her insanity, or even to see the real Misa underneath it all. Making her fall in love with him in such a short time might be impossible, but if he could make her hesitate just enough to not write his name down, to give him more time, the scope of his plans could expand until surely one of them would work. That sounded doable.
L carefully watched for a chance to work on his plans other than the one of getting on Misa's good side, but he only managed to get Ryuk alone once during the week, during a naptime lounging in the bed.
L said, "If I destroy both notebooks and run away, will Rem not kill me?"
Ryuk said, "Nope, she'll kill you. If you were anyone else, though, you could probably set something up to defeat her. You're just not in a very good position to do anything even if you were loose."
L said, "Rem is reluctant to kill humans. Am I correct?"
Ryuk sighed and said, "She would kill you in an instant if she thought you'd threaten Misa. And, the reason she is holding back isn't the reason you think. Rem doesn't love humans, she just loves Misa."
After that, L went into a long guessing session where he proposed various reasons why Rem might not want to kill, and Ryuk didn't affirm any of them. L listened closely for any hint of which guess, if any, might be right, but he couldn't tell. He wished he could see the shinigami's face, to have a better chance to figure out if he was even getting close. L knew how good he was at reading humans and perhaps, just perhaps, that talent carried over to gods of death as well.
But then, L's hearing caught Misa's returning steps in another room, and he whispered, "Be quiet."
When Misa opened the door and came in, L was sure she hadn't realized he'd talked to Ryuk. There was no scolding, no punishment, not even a change in the tone of her voice. Instead she was nice to him, talking to him softly and cuddling him in that way he knew meant sex was coming soon. He cuddled back as best he could in his straightjacket, trying to squelch down within him those traitorous feelings that actually liked Misa, while at the same time acting as if he were hesitantly letting those feelings to the surface, slowly falling for Misa in a way that was as realistic as possible.
He let her put more love marks on his neck, and then he kissed her using every technique he'd picked up by experimenting with her, and she responded like a woman who might love him a little bit. He got hard so fast from just kissing her that it was almost embarrassing, but he was glad of his erection when she reached under his skirt and cooed in pleasure to find it already ready for her. This was yet more evidence for Misa that he liked her. He was forging a connection, a wonderful connection that might let him live.
Misa tried to climb on top, but he made a wriggling worm-like movement and managed to get on top himself. He giggled at her and seductively whispered, "I know you like it this way, Misa."
And, she did. She liked to be dominated, to have him on top, thrusting into her. She came more often in that position. He liked it too. It made him feel less vulnerable, and it allowed him to indulge fully in his instinct that told him to push into the female, an instinct that was surprisingly strong; he hadn't even known he'd had it before he lost his virginity. Being on top without arms was awkward and made his neck sore from using his head as support, but he was actually getting pretty talented at it. He no longer needed Misa's help to find her vagina, and he'd developed a rolling motion of the hips that pushed his penis in and out with less strain on his neck, and it also had the advantage of entering at an angle that Misa really responded to.
Before positioning himself for entry, he found one of Misa's nipples and suckled it fiercely until she was moaning in pleasure. Then he placed his head on the mattress above her shoulder and started entering her slowly, feeling her trembling warmth around his penis, enclosing more and more of him deliciously as he pushed inside. She was running her hands up and down his sides, filling him with a feverish, needy lust. But, still, he went slowly at first for her. It drove her crazy, it always made her beg for him to speed up, and, in that begging, he could hear the slightest tones of something like love. She wanted him to make her beg and then give her exactly what she needed.
When he'd seated himself completely inside her, he slowly withdrew, then rolled his hips to thrust in again, adding a little twist when he was fully inside that was designed to rub his public bone against her clitoris.
He pulled out and did it again and again, a slow rhythm, out-in-twist, out-in-twist, building the heat in his groin and making Misa squirm underneath him.
As he continued to drive himself into her repeatedly, he said, "Oh, Misa, you feel so good."
And, it was entirely true. Misa did feel good, and the experience felt good, as long as he concentrated on the physical sensations. Misa like to be praised and told how wonderful the sex was, and the truth in his voice could only help matters.
Then Misa wrapped her legs around L's waist and said, "Do it the way I want."
L could hear the pleading tone in her voice. He speeded up his strokes, not quite enough to please her, he knew.
Sure enough, after a few more moments, Misa gasped, "Faster!"
He obliged, and Misa started almost purring, letting out little feminine murmuring moans. He could feel his excitement rising along with her own, and he wanted to plunge fierce and fast with wild abandon, but he knew he'd come too fast that way. His priority was pleasuring Misa. He knew exactly what she wanted: the right speed, the little clit-grinding twist at the end of each stroke, the things to say. She wanted to be dominated, but she also wanted obedience. There was a particular style of dirty talk that was sure to turn her on.
L said, "This body is yours, Misa. It exists for your purposes, only for you."
He was grinding harder, thrusting deeper, and she was shivering underneath him now. She was close, he could tell.
L said, "Misa, I'm going to come inside you, just like you want. I'm going to get you pregnant today."
He could feel the difference in her internal muscles then, and it almost sent him over the edge. She was gripping him differently, trembling internally, and suddenly she was a lot wetter than she'd been a moment ago.
She said, "Yes, L. You're going to fill me... fill me with your seed. And then, my tummy will swell up... with a baby. It'll be your baby... yours."
Misa was getting really wild now, gripping him tighter than ever, her heels scrabbling at his hips as he thrust into her over and over, never letting up, their pleasure rising together. The tighter her vagina got, the more slippery it was. L almost couldn't contain himself.
He said, "Yes, Misa. Misa, it feels... so good... inside you."
Misa said, "You'll die... before seeing... your baby's face... I'll have it... not you!"
With that, Misa had sent herself over the edge and she was letting out a little scream-snarl, coming hard, her voice laden with lust and revenge. L felt a deep, hot awful shame inside himself when he came a moment later. He buried his length deep inside her, emptying his semen, trying not to think about the implications of what he'd done as waves of bliss moved through him. It was physical, that was all. A female body could easily cause pleasure in a male body. It didn't mean anything else.
Though, afterwards, as she cuddled him and he responded, pretending to like it, there was a part of him that wanted to remain her prisoner forever, a part of him that was happy to be a little domesticated doll that she fussed over and fucked and occasionally hurt, but maybe the hurting would eventually go away. He couldn't deny it. Even in people as cold and logical as himself, even in someone as sadistic as Misa, there was something that changed because of sex, a bond that was formed. L just hoped he could use that bond to escape and live before it ate his soul.
During the after-sex cuddling, he was already pondering the next step in trying to get her to think a little more fondly of him, to let down her guard and make her less willing to kill him. It was time to start talking about "our child" to Misa. If he could make her think of herself as a mother, and himself as the father of her child, and the child itself as a real person she would need to care for, a person who would take fifteen or twenty years to grow into the next Kira, Misa might soften up a bit.
L started tentatively. He brought up the subject of parenting styles, education, and the day-to-day arrangements a child would need in its life. Misa listened to him, her breathing sounding uncomfortable. She probably hadn't thought about this plan realistically so far. She'd spent a lot of time talking about pregnancy, and about a grown-up Kira following in Light's footsteps, but she probably hadn't really thought about what would need to come between those two events.
From the tone of her voice the few times Misa answered questions, L became certain he was getting to her. Misa did sound positively unsettled. She probably wasn't ready to be a mother nine months from now, and she knew it. Then, L tried to calm her, to comfort her with the sort of words a supportive lover would use for a mother-to-be. Toward the end of his talk, he even threw in a few hints that, if he just lived, he could be there as a father to help her with the child; they could have a happy little family.
Then, he just snuggled up next to her and let her think. Her muscles felt stiff, her stance awkward. After a time, she left without saying anything, leaving him alone in the bed for hours longer than normal before she returned and strapped him to the metal frame for the night.
Two days later, in the middle of L's fourteenth day of captivity, he heard footsteps that were different. Not Misa, not her quick little delicate steps. Someone heavier, larger; someone who set the feet down firmly. It sounded like... Watari?
L found his heart beating faster, and he hoped so hard that it was Watari. But, if it were, then wouldn't that mean Watari would die soon? Also, L would have to tell Watari to leave him in captivity. Right now, escape was equivalent to death... unless Watari had that critical piece of information L needed, the one Ryuk knew but insisted that L wouldn't be able to use without dying in the process.
Then L heard an unfamiliar man's voice say, "Look at you!"
The steps came closer, and L felt his blindfold being taken off. At first, his eyes couldn't even focus. He hadn't seen a thing except the inside of the blindfold in two weeks. Then he blinked rapidly, looked around, and was actually able to see this time.
In front of him, he saw a middle-aged man in a hotel employee's uniform, looking around in disgust. On carpet surrounding the metal frame, there were dead bees, spilled food and some spots of blood. And, perhaps, a two-week-old urine stain.
The man began undoing the straps holding L in and said, "Are you okay?"
L said, "Leave me here. My girlfriend is just playing a game with me. She'll be back soon."
"No," the man said, "Misa Amane is going to get kicked out. The manager is going to be in here. Yamaguchi Hotel is a high-class establishment. It doesn't matter if she's a star. If she wants to play cutting games with her druggie boyfriend, she'll have to do it elsewhere."
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Fifty Days