What's New Pussycat? | By : KNW Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > General Views: 6350 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis (Tennis no Ohjisama), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: Atobe and
Ryoma obviously don't belong to me v_v
What's New Pussycat?
Ryoma did his best to
remain as still and silent as Master Oshitari had directed, but he couldn't
keep his tail from flicking back and forth in agitation or his ears twitching
at the slightest sound. He wanted to be just about anywhere but there, kneeling
uncomfortably with only a scrap of cloth to preserve his modesty and a butt
plug wedged in his loosened hole, waiting for a new master he'd never met
before now. He knew what was ahead, he knew he would have no choice but to
accept and submit before the night was out. It was why he'd been sent prepared,
ready to be bent over and fucked hard the moment his master wished it. It made
him wonder what they'd all think if they knew what his garb concealed. He could
feel the leering eyes on him and he wanted to hold his chin high in defiance of
them, wanted to show them he was proud and had dignity, but he understood well
that that was the road to a whipping. He'd endured it countless times in his
training when such disrespect hadn't really mattered, he wasn't about to let
all of that go to waste now. Ryoma might hate his lot with a passion, he knew
he probably always would, but he'd long ago determined that he'd channel that
to be the very best at what he had to do. It was that drive which had brought
him here, a gift of good faith to the Emperor of Ice himself: Atobe Keigo.
Silence reigned for a prolonged period of
time before he heard the door at the far end of the audience chamber open. He
couldn't help the way his ears swivelled toward the noise, but he kept his head
bowed and waited as footsteps moved closer. Two pairs, he didn't need to look
to know the emperor was approaching him followed by Master Oshitari. He waited
until the feet appeared in his line of vision, clad in golden sandals all too
likely to be the real thing, and then shifted. He spread his knees wider as his
hands glided along the tiles before him, his body
followed their path until his naked chest was almost pressed to the floor. It
was the standard bow for a slave, and Ryoma hated it. The brush of the ground
was always a touch too much for his sensitive nipples not to harden
immediately, and the strain on his thighs and back made him acutely aware of
the toy inside him, especially when it shifted with the movement. It left him
clenching around the intrusion in an almost wanton manner, his sex
half-aroused. Nobody wanted an unresponsive pleasure slave after all, but Ryoma
still hated it.
His irritation only grew when Atobe failed
to give him leave to rise, instead proceeding to walk slowly around him,
studying him from every side, while Ryoma became more and more unable to ignore
the plug inside him. It was the man's right of course, but it was hardly as
though he wouldn't have a better view with Ryoma upright. The prospect of an
inconsiderate master was chilling, yet Ryoma found himself
less upset by it than he'd always imagined he might. Perhaps it was the fact
that no one had ever said this emperor would be sweet, so he'd resigned himself
to the fact. Or perhaps it was just easier to live with himself
if he hated his life, and a kind master could break that more firmly than any
strike.
The touch of gentle fingers to his back
came as a surprise, one sure digit trailing the line of a recent welt that had
been supposedly concealed by make-up. The contact stung and it took all his
control to hold still, cringing inwardly that his new master had found it at
all. Atobe's voice when he finally spoke was dangerous. "I've been given a
disobedient slave?"
There was a resounding silence in the hall
and Ryoma could feel the goose bumps rise on his flesh as terror claimed him.
There was no reason for Atobe to accept him now, no where to go if he didn't
either. It had been one mistake, one defiance that he
shouldn't have made, and one reaction his trainer shouldn't have delivered. Now
it was going to destroy everything because it had been too close to his
presentation. Behind him his tail lashed, the length stroking against the
emperor's legs without his having any ability to prevent it. Inside him the toy
that had symbolised the promise of something new felt like a leaden weight, a
hideous shame that he might die with. He pressed his hands more firmly to the
floor to prevent them from trembling.
"If I may?" Oshitari asked carefully.
Atobe's hand curled about Ryoma's tail,
petting the soft fur that graced it with his thumb absently, a
challenge to his tone as he granted the request, "Go on."
Ryoma utterly failed to
suppress the shiver that worked through him, raising goose bumps for an
entirely new reason. He was a cat and, no matter how in control he could be, he
still loved being stroked. That love was only magnified when the tingles
provoked in his tail went straight to his arse and the toy burrowed within, if
he wasn't careful he'd be tenting the scrap of fabric he had to conceal
himself. He could barely keep from rocking with pleasure, screwing his eyes
closed he was undeniably glad that his expression couldn't be seen while his
forehead was pressed to the floor.
"I believe," Oshitari began
cautiously, "That the punishment was a misunderstanding, but also that
this pet was selected to suit your tastes."
The petting stopped, but Ryoma wasn't sure
whether to be relieved or not. There was no longer that added distraction, but
that statement had been a little too cryptic for his liking. Ryoma was, after
all, very certain he knew nothing of Atobe's specific tastes and he didn't know
how he could have been chosen for them and yet remain uninformed.
Atobe moved to stand in front of him again.
"Sit up."
Ryoma rose, slowly and
very gracefully considering the plug within, but kept his gaze lowered to the
floor respectfully. He held his posture perfect, his hands resting on his bare thighs
with his back straight and shoulders back. In essence he displayed his body as
best he knew how, not expecting to have the emperor crouch before him and take
his chin in hand. He couldn't help the annoyance that flashed through his eyes
as he met the emperor's, couldn't help the way his slit pupils just managed to
magnify the hostility, but he regretted both.
Atobe smirked, actually seeming pleased.
"You haven't been broken."
Ryoma didn't honestly know what to say to
that, he'd thought he had been. He did everything he was told and he did it
perfectly, he no longer answered back or scowled or refused. He even wore a
plug that left him loose enough for his master to slip inside on a whim… Wasn't
that broken?
In the end Ryoma just didn't speak, it hadn't
been a question after all. He lowered his gaze though, sweeping away from his
new master's perfect face, over the man's bared chest to the loose white pants
he wore and then the floor. He tried not to think about what they concealed and
how it might feel driving into him, ignoring the fact that his master appeared
to be someone he could find attractive. He didn't acknowledge that Atobe's
hands were as gentle as his voice was dangerous, that the man's hard, toned
chest and strong arms appealed to him, or that the man's air of authority
almost had him wanting to subject himself to that humiliating slave bow over
and over until his master pet him again.
Ultimately, though, he didn't have to say
anything as Atobe's free hand came up to brush through his hair. The grip on
his chin remained firm and inescapable as careful fingers combed through the
black locks before brushing experimentally against an ear. Ryoma couldn't
suppress his shiver that time and it earned an amused, and pleased, chuckle
from his master as the man murmured softly, "So responsive."
Ryoma glared at the floor furiously, not
daring to raise his eyes. He wasn't angry with his master, nor the situation;
he was livid with himself as he felt his cheeks grow warm with a blush. It had
barely been any time, mere minutes in fact, and he was as good as fluttering in
the palm of this stranger's hand. It wasn't a place he wanted to be – he didn't
ever want to like being a slave, he wanted to hate it. Yet even as he strained
to do something to incur Atobe's ire, he couldn't. Ryoma could only submit to
the man's sure touch, his mouth falling open with a soft gasp as the very tip
of his ear was rubbed between careful fingers and the enjoyment thrilled
through his body in a tense little wave.
Ryoma wasn't expecting to have his master's
lips cover his own, Atobe's tongue invading his mouth as if the man owned it.
Ryoma knew he should have because Atobe did own it, did own him, but he hadn't. He found he liked it
though, the combination of that confident kiss and the
stimulation to his ears alongside the plug holding him open and ready. He
shivered beneath the assault, tangling his tongue with his master's in an
instinctive and greedy reaction. He wanted to reach out and touch, but it was
against the rules, he hadn't been accepted yet. He whimpered softly as Atobe
bit his lip before pulling away, leaving him feeling dazed and bereft as he was
released entirely.
Ryoma could only blink for a moment, by the
time he really registered what was going on Atobe was sliding a collar about
his neck and securing it in place. The sharp metallic click of a leash being
attached almost made him glance up before he caught himself. Somehow he'd
retained position throughout and he clung to that now as Atobe's voice filled
the room. "I accept. Rise and follow me, pet."
Ryoma did as bidden carefully, fisting his
hands to prevent them from shaking. He wasn't sure if he was excited or afraid
or delighted, maybe it was all three. He didn't want to be any of them though, each was a weakness, so he concentrated on the
feeling of the toy as it stretched his hole and shifted with his strides as he
walked. He kept his head bowed and followed his master's sandal clad heels from
the room. He pretended that everyone watching wouldn't see his semi-erect penis
poorly concealed in his loincloth. It didn't matter if they did after all,
they'd likely see far worse as he continued to serve his master. Pleasure
slaves were for any time and any where; he detested the secret buzz he felt at
the idea of being fucked in front of an audience.
He didn't remember the route as they walked, he knew he'd be shown around at a later date. Right
then his thoughts kept drifting to what was to come next and how Atobe would
treat him - whether his behaviour in the audience chamber had been for show or
not. He thought perhaps he had his answer when Atobe unhooked the leash upon
entering his bedroom, his order distracted and inattentive as he moved away.
"Remove the loincloth and put it in the hamper."
He obeyed without hesitation, undoing the
meagre garment as he glanced towards his master from the corner of his eye.
Atobe was sat at his desk, his back to Ryoma as he worked. A coiling line of
gold about his upper arm indicated a bangle of some sort, a glimmer of something
similar at his neck suggesting a choker. Ryoma reflected that maybe he'd felt a
ring before - he hadn't actually had chance to look at Atobe's hands while he
was being touched - but overall his master wore very little finery. The
portraits of emperors Ryoma had seen in the past always showed them gaudily
dressed up, it was odd to see Atobe so much more
reserved than that.
Silently he padded across the room,
unashamed of his nudity, and deposited his attire in the hamper before
approaching Atobe again. When he was still two metres away he fell to his knees
and crawled the rest of the way, until he could wait
at Atobe's feet, his head bowed in submission. There he stayed for what felt
like the longest time as Atobe continued what he was doing. Kneeling as he was
with that plug inside him, a constant reminder of what they were failing to do,
Ryoma quickly found his previous apprehensions fading to annoyance and
eventually gave in and glanced up. He received a swift and sharp cuff across
his ear for his troubles, which left him scrambling backward with a hiss.
"Get on the bed, pet," Atobe
instructed him, no hint of apology in his tone.
Ryoma glared at him mutinously, one hand raised to touch his abused ear as he hesitated in moving.
Atobe wasn't even looking, but when Ryoma
failed to move he snapped, "Now, puss."
Ryoma still didn't move,
eyes alight with defiance as he stood his ground. It was stupid to do, but damn
it, he hadn't come there to sit around like some pretty ornament… And that was
when it hit him, his gaze dropping to the floor in stunned recognition, that
that was precisely what he'd come there to do and he wasn't ready for it at
all. He looked up with dawning horror to see Atobe stalking towards him with
his hand raised, and he found himself scrambling backwards until he hit the
door.
In seconds Atobe had him pinned by the neck
and he was scrabbling at the man's hand in an attempt to get free, hissing
angrily. Atobe merely smirked as he deftly grabbed both of Ryoma's hands with
his free one, releasing Ryoma's throat as he raised them against the door above
his head. "So feisty, kitten."
Ryoma wanted to spit at him, but he
couldn't cross that line. He found he couldn't even demand to be let go as he
struggled, staring at Atobe with defiant challenge as he squirmed between the
press of his master's body and the door. Fuck.
It was actually turning him on.
Atobe laughed, a
low and wicked sound as he held his pet in place. Ryoma could do naught but
watch as Atobe tugged the cord belt of his pants free, smiling dangerously as
he reached up to secure it around Ryoma's wrists before looping it over a
clothes hook on the back of the door and letting go. Ryoma found himself pulled
up on tiptoe, his arms straining with his weight as he tried to tug free.
"You'll just tire out faster that way,
pet," Atobe purred, sliding the pants he'd been wearing down from where
they'd caught on his hips. Ryoma felt his mouth go dry as he caught sight of
his master's cock standing proud and ready. He forgot to struggle for a moment,
watching as Atobe stepped out of his trousers and sandals, and sauntered away
to the nightstand to pick up a bottle of what Ryoma presumed to be lubricant.
It was as Atobe smirked at him, tipping the
contents over his palm before coating his cock, that Ryoma was reminded of the
position he was in and started tugging at the restraints he now wore almost
violently. It wasn't that he was scared or even that he didn't want it, the way
his cock twitched as he watched Atobe's sure fingers slicking his master's sex
testified to his desire, it was quite simply that he felt hideously undignified
suspended from the back of a door with a butt plug rammed up his ass. All he
was succeeding in doing was making the cord dig into his wrists and rub painfully,
but he didn't stop until Atobe had advanced on him again, and even then his
tail was still lashing between his body and the door behind him.
Atobe didn't say anything to him, he just smiled infuriatingly and touched. He touched
Ryoma's sides and thighs and belly with fleeting little caresses and more firm
explorative strokes, he seemed to map Ryoma's skin with his fingertips,
memorising every play of muscle. He kissed and sucked and bit Ryoma nipples
until the boy squirmed with want, and cried out in need. He left sucking kisses
along Ryoma's collar bone as if to reaffirm his ownership. He licked Ryoma's
knee and grazed his nails over Ryoma's ass cheeks in a way that made the slave
buck helplessly. And he teased the soft kitten ears mercilessly until Ryoma's
cock was straining against his belly, the slit leaking clear fluid copiously.
Then when Ryoma was almost mindless and
felt he couldn't take anymore, only then did Atobe hook his hands under Ryoma's
thighs and guide his pet's legs about his waist. Ryoma accepted the hint
thoughtlessly, tightening his hold to be almost vicelike as he sought to take
the strain away from his abused arms. For all his arousal, his wrists were red
raw, though he'd managed to twist enough to grip the rope and clutch it through
the onslaught.
When the toy slid free of his body with a
sucking pop, he gasped out loud and found his mouth filled with his master's
tongue. The kiss was brutal and punishing, devouring Ryoma with bites and
scraping teeth that didn't pay any heed to Ryoma's comfort but left him more
excited all the same. His lips were swiftly flushed and bruised and he looked
utterly ravished.
When Atobe's cock slid
into him with no warning, he cried out into the kiss. His master filled him
completely, more completely than any toy ever could. It hurt as he stretched to
accommodate the larger invasion, but he'd been well enough prepared that he
enjoyed it too. In the moments after the toy had been withdrawn he'd felt
empty, with Atobe's cock inside him he felt filled and owned and wanted. They
were things any boy in his position would have been trained for, but they felt
overwhelmingly real as his tail lashed and he yowled with Atobe's first harsh
thrust.
Atobe's grip on his hips
was punishing, and his pace was frenzied. Ryoma knew he'd have marks but
couldn't bring himself to care. Handprints on his hips, rope burns on his
wrists, the print of the door on his back. But even if Atobe was slamming him
against the mahogany with every thrust, he was also ramming his prostate and
Ryoma was seeing stars. His cock was untouched between them, yet he knew he'd
come any moment. He could feel his tail swiping against Atobe's legs as keenly
as he could feel the delicious slide of that beautiful cock filling him. He
could feel every time his master's belly brushed the tip of his own sex, and he
was acutely aware of the tightening sensation in his balls.
"Please," he gasped as his master
withdrew, unable to prevent another delighted yowl being rent from his throat
as Atobe mercilessly drove back in. The sheer power of the man, his stamina and
strength and control… It was everything any trained pet could want and it was
doing things to Ryoma that he simultaneously loved and hated.
"Please what?" Atobe returned, his eyes gleaming maliciously as he
bucked up particularly abruptly, making Ryoma convulse around him. Ryoma could
take satisfaction in the way Atobe's cool veneer shook for a moment though, the
man's eyes closing in ecstasy for a mere second before he pinned Ryoma with his
gaze again.
"Master," Ryoma keened, too needy
to be stubborn, too far gone to hold back any longer.
Atobe's response was a low and heated
growl, as if his control, too, were hanging from a thread. "Come."
It was all Ryoma needed, his body was
already tense as a string about to snap. His back arched, his head knocked
against the door, and he came explosively. The intensity of it painted both his
own and his master's chests. It sapped him of his strength and left him sagging
on his bindings. The pleasure swamped him; he couldn't think, couldn't respond
as Atobe plundered his mouth in a passionate kiss, couldn't react as his master
lifted him higher and pounded into him relentlessly, filling him with his seed
minutes later.
Ryoma felt sore, tired, and far more content
than he'd ever feared he would in his worst nightmares. He wasn't fully
comprehending as he was lifted down and untied, only distantly registering his
being carried to the bed and laid there, cleaned with a washcloth carefully,
and told in a voice that carried no small hint of amusement, "You have a
long way to go, pussycat."
It didn't matter right
then that tomorrow he would no doubt suffer for his behaviour.
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