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Humiliation March	By : Embrace138 Category: Death Note > Het-Male/Female > Light/Misa Views: 2863 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Death Note.

Chapter List
- 1-Her Fettered Wings
- 1
In all of his careful planning and strategizing over the years, there was a very simple thing to Light's quest to become Kira that he'd overlooked. He refused to blame himself for it- after all, it was a natural conclusion, given his powers, that the very opposite of what happened was supposed to occur instead. And it wasn't immediately obvious when he was proven wrong- looking back, he thought it probably took him around a year to fully understand what had happened in its stead.

That very thing, of course, was that Light was sure, once Mello, Near, and all of his other enemies were out of the way, that things would get easier. He was convinced that after executing all those who opposed him in his quest to become god of the new world that he would create, everything would be rather straightforward. It turned out, though, that his enemies were rather persistent in their pursuit of him. After Mello and Near were out of the picture, Light was sure that the local police, the FBI, and all of his other antagonists would learn to let sleeping dogs lie. And perhaps they would have, had he not bothered to cover up what happened at the warehouse. While he came out of that particular situation alive (the only one to do so,) he made a small error in judgment- instead of immediately ascending to his throne, Light reflexively began to spin stories to maintain his everyday life. Looking back, it seemed almost habitual- he felt as thought with just a little bit more time, he could truly consolidate his power, and like love at first sight, know the moment that he would take control.

In all of his careful planning and strategizing over the years, there was a very simple thing to Light's quest to become Kira that he'd overlooked. He refused to blame himself for it- after all, it was a natural conclusion, given his powers, that the very opposite of what happened was supposed to occur instead. And it wasn't immediately obvious when he was proven wrong- looking back, he thought it probably took him around a year to fully understand what had happened in its stead.

Unfortunately, that moment never came, and he'd massively underestimated the sheer obsession that his crimes would inspire for the denizen's at Wammy's House. L, Near, and Mello were all disposed of, but they were only the beginning of a seemingly endless stream of new detectives to be evaded and eventually killed. The police were invariably suspicious- Light's role in the force was shifted around, keeping him at the same pay grade, but he was taken off of the Kira case (for which he was happy, but put up a show of distress and frustration for his superiors) and shoved into a consulting position that rarely involved actual work. He spent most of his time at the office, now, assisting lesser officers with tough cases of their own. While the Kira investigation had not been called off, and suspicion of Light was greater than ever, it seemed as though he and the police had reached an uneasy truce of sorts- the police refused to cooperate with the orphans of Wammy's House, knowing the invariable bloodshed for their own officers it always led to, and any observation of Light was kept quiet and mild in nature. While they would tell the public that they were still pursuing Kira intensely, the truth was that work on it had all but ceased, and the Kira task force rapidly became a temporary position for officers seeking celebrity and grooming for the higher ranks. Few lasted more than six months in the role before being hastily transferred.

And so, in a way, Light's life had become easier than ever before- without the cooperation of the police, the detectives that would periodically emerge from Wammy's House weren't much of a threat, easily delayed and typically not as eager to pursue Kira as their predecessors had been. The latest one, a stout, blonde-haired boy named Maru had been on his trail for a year and a half- if you could even say he was on his trail. Mostly Maru contented himself sporadically investigating leads, finding himself in a truce with Kira similar to that of the Japanese police themselves. Unlike L or the others, he wasn't quite so willing to walk to his death. Despite this, though, Light still couldn't find the opening he really wanted to seize power- while the police and British detectives refused to pursue him the way they once had, they made their presence known, and Light was simply unable to make that final push for supremacy he'd once been so eager to find.

In some ways, Light acknowledged, he'd become just as passive as the others in this little war had. The warehouse was Light's first real brush with mortality- in that room, he'd come closer to death than he ever had before, and was shaken by the experience. Though he was loathe to admit it, he'd become fairly content with the pattern of his life, and even his killings with the Death Note had slowed to a steady but certainly less substantial trickle than before. In many ways, he already had the new world he'd originally imagined- crime was reduced to a fraction of what it was in his younger years, he was revered by many across the world, and in all respects he had become the invisible hand that guided the world's affairs.

Still, though, his knowledge of his own complacency gnawed at him more and more each day, but without that perfect moment, Light was at a loss for what to do with his life. He was satisfied, generally- he was not for want of money, love, or fame (though perhaps not the open fame he truly craved,) but he easily realized that his ultimate goal had still not yet been attained. His frustrations mounted, and the Death Note didn't satisfy his craving for immediacy and fulfillment as it used to- his scribblings in the book now seemed empty, forced, and trite, as he dealt with the handful of criminals who never seemed to learn. His life had become as bland and vapid as it had been when he was in high school, walking through schoolwork he saw as pointless and dull. Well, except for one end which seemed to always loosen whenever he tied it up.

Misa. At times he regretted taking her memory of the Death Note from her- occasionally he felt lonely, no longer having her as a confidant and co-conspirator. Now, she simply took his perpetually distracted nature to be reflective of all the “hard work” he did as a member of the police force, and was almost insufferably supportive of him even on the occasions when his frustration would mount and release on her. She was always tolerant and understanding, and over time, Light had begun to despise her overwhelming dedication, and moreover, her constantly hovering presence whenever he was at home. It was sometimes even difficult to find the time to write in the Death Note each night, so insistent was Misa of sharing every waking moment with him.

Misa wasn't a stupid girl, though, and had seen Light's increasing distance over the past couple years. It wasn't too long after the incident at the warehouse (which, despite her best efforts to pull the information from him, he refused to provide any real details about) that she noticed the scotch she'd greet him with at the door when he came home disappeared in a single pull nowadays; after that, it turned into a double, and before too long, she abandoned the tumblers entirely and just filled a water glass with it for him. She liked to dust the tumblers off occasionally so it wouldn't feel like it had actually been a year since they'd been needed.

While Light had never been the affectionate type, the sheer coldness she felt from him these days was finally starting to concern her. Even their lovemaking, sporadic as it was in the past, had turned to almost nothing, and apart from a perfunctory bit of small talk when he first arrived home, he seemed to hardly want to speak to her anymore. Misa did what she could, always trying to entice him into conversation or sex or some sort of intimacy with her, but at best he would shrug it off and ignore her, and at worst (thankfully an infrequent occasion,) he would lash out in a shouting fit which seemed entirely unlike him.

These days, Misa spent most of her time remembering the past, missing her fiancé's touch (he still refused to set a date, saying that he was too busy with work to worry about marriage right now,) and wondering if she'd ever have him back the way they used to be. But Misa was a practical sort of girl, and it was only a matter of time before she tried to bring him back one way or another.

~

Light steeled himself before he walked into the door (naturally unlocked despite him warning Misa about that time and time again before;) it was nothing big, just a quick sigh to get whatever tension was building on the walk to their apartment out before he had to confront Misa. She was exhausting, and without establishing some composure before he entered, his senses would be rapidly overwhelmed by her chatter and constant touching. She was getting more and more clingy by the day, and no doubt was likely going to pounce on him the moment he opened the door. Light leaned his head against the door and turned the knob.

“Light!”

Ugh. The way she said his name always inspired the first tendrils of a headache.

“Misa.” Light stepped inside, set his briefcase down, and loosened his tie. He barely had to hold his hand out before his drink was there. Scotch. Single malt. One of his great passions as of late. Misa was very good about remembering it and didn't ask questions about his drinking. In return, he overlooked hers. It was a tidy arrangement they had.

Barely looking at the woman, Light sat down heavily on the couch and sipped his drink, turning on the TV and checking the news for the latest victims to track down. This was his time for relaxation, and over the years he no longer had to write the criminals down immediately as they popped up. He sharpened his memory enough so that he could sit, drink, and unwind while still doing his work to some degree. It was almost therapeutic- much less frantic than the way he had to do it when he was a kid. He could watch and absorb all the faces and names, smile just a little bit when a mention of Kira popped up, and enjoy the moment. He felt like he got to know the criminals a bit better this way, without his eyes constantly darting back and forth between page and television. It was more intimate and personal than before.

He barely noticed when Misa sat down beside him, but he did when she cooed and leaned into him, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder like an overgrown cat. He finally took notice of what she was wearing: a flowing but still short, black dress, with a plunging neckline that drew attention to her cleavage- even more low-cut than usual. It was that moment that he realized what she was expecting and seeking for the night.

God, not tonight. It wasn't as though sex with her was unenjoyable- she made sure to please him to the best of her ability, and he grudgingly admitted that of all the girls he'd slept with, she was the best- but he simply didn't revel in the act like she did. It was fun, but Light was never one too concerned with fun- he was too busy to worry about minor things like that when he had more important work to do. Misa, though, was almost insatiable, and he felt the need to occasionally provide for her simply so she wouldn't insist herself upon him every day as she undoubtedly would prefer. Even he would admit, though, that their relations had all but disappeared over the past months. She was an attractive girl- that much was undeniable- but he simply didn't care anymore, too caught up in the routine he'd unwillingly found himself in to even bother. After a couple minutes, she finally spoke:

“How was work, sweetheart?”

“Busy,” he replied, as always, “Kurogawa is insisting that I help him even more with the Subway Butcher, but I have so many cases on my desk already that I just don't have the time for him.”

“Aww, don't stress yourself out too much, honey. After all, you always have me to come home to.” She giggled and stared up at him. He didn't meet her gaze. It would only lead to more inconvenience. He took a long sip of his drink.

“I know, Misa.” He knew he couldn't go forever without her getting testy, so he gave her a peck on the lips and went back to watching. Takami, Hideo, arrested for armed robbery in Akihabara-

“I hope you didn't bring too much work home tonight. I was hoping we could have some time together, just the two of us. It gets so lonely here without you!” With that, she sprawled across his lap, staring up at him. She was always staring and apparently wouldn't be dissuaded tonight, but he'd find a way out of her advances one way or another. Light decided to head her off at the pass.

“Misa, another drink?”

“Sure!” She bounced up off the couch with his glass and went to filling it again. His tolerance had gone up massively since they'd started living together, and though he was feeling the pangs of drunkenness start to hit, he knew he'd need more to get through the night. Work was torture- he couldn't drink on the job, of course, and nearly the whole time he was plagued with thoughts of simply getting home to his bottle, if not to the woman providing it. He watched the screen intently and the letters swam.

Misa returned a bit more quickly than he would have liked and gave him his glass. It wasn't quite as full as the first but he wouldn't bother confronting her about it. He wasn't unaware that she was concerned about his drinking- it was the little things, the pauses in a refill, the perpetually lowering line of liquid- but she'd been thankfully silent on bringing it up in conversation. It wasn't a topic he wanted to discuss with her. Not if she would be stupid about it. She knew that work was difficult and after a full day of dealing with the nation's scum, he deserved a drink or two. But then she began talking again, and at first he ignored the idle chatter he'd grown immune to over the years, but then she insisted on bringing him in.

“Do you think we could go on a date sometime?”

He actually stopped in the middle of a sip. “What?” He said it a bit more harshly than intended and she shrank ever so slightly at his tone.

“Well, I just think it would be healthy for you to get out of the house, what with all the work you do. I mean, it can't be good to just go to work and then come home and work more, it's-”

“Misa,” he interrupted her, “you know I take my work seriously. I can't just... let it all go like that. You know how much responsibility I have? I need to take care of things at the office and if I can't do it there I'll do it at home. I need to do it.” He slurred ever so slightly, and Misa took notice and frowned at it.

“I know, sweetheart, but I worry about you...” She bit her lip in that insufferable way whenever she wanted to look concerned. She was stupid, but not that stupid. She knew what she was doing. When it came to him, she always knew. Her big eyes looked all worried and he was slowly growing to hate that look which seemed to greet him more and more often whenever he'd come home. Still, he tried to compromise.

“I know, Misa. But if I didn't do this, what would happen? How many more criminals would be on the streets, hurting innocent people? People like you?” He let a bit of fire come out in the last word. She had to know what he faced every day. For whatever reason, Light kept the gory details away from her, but perhaps she should know exactly what people like the Subway Butcher did to pretty girls like her. They still couldn't find Mitsuko Nakagawa's hands at the last crime scene and he was at a loss as to where they might be. Probably a trophy. He didn't know. He was there at the scene, though, and got to watch his step as he tried to avoid the rivulets of blood that criss-crossed the platform-

And then she giggled, always that insufferable giggle. He couldn't think of a better word for it- it was almost unbearable, always too loud, too high, too everything that Misa always managed to be. It wasn't quite as bad, though, as what she said next.

“Silly, who'd want to hurt me? I mean, I'm a star!”

He looked at her incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?” She sat up straighter at this- Light almost never swore. “Do you have any idea the people out there I have to deal with? The things they do every day to people like you? Do you think the murderers, the rapists, the robbers CARE about you being a 'star?' They want what you have, and one way or another, they'll take it from you. They'll take everything from you. You have no idea the types of people out there, Misa. You're lucky.”

“I know, but-”

“No, you don't know, and that's the problem! You spend your days playing around on your movie sets or filming your commercials, or just laying around here, but you DON'T know what it's really like out there, and you have no idea how lucky you are not to. You can't even IMAGINE some of the things these people would do to you...”

“Light,” she began, and her lips quivered slightly, and he hated how perfect they were, the lights from the living room glimmering off her ruby red lipstick, “you know you can talk to me about those things if you ever need to-”

“No, I can't. You wouldn't understand.” He held out his empty glass to her. “Misa.”

“Light, I don't-”

“Misa.” Again, with feeling, and he looked at her and let just a hint of his distaste for the criminals, for her, for everything hit his eyes. It always worked. She looked down and took his glass and slid off the couch, heading back towards the kitchen.

Light was annoyed, but became incensed when he looked back at the television and realized he'd totally lost his place in the crime reports. He would have to somehow break away from Misa tonight and look them up online, wasting even more of what precious free time he had on the job he was growing more and more tired of by the day. He leaned back and shut his eyes hard. It didn't really matter anyway- he was drunk enough at this point that he wouldn't be able to remember any of the fucking names or faces that he saw on the television anyway. He knew that piling another heavy drink on top of where he already was wouldn't help him later, but he didn't care. At this rate, he was considering skipping the night's killings anyway. It would be the first time in a long while he did that, but he figured that he deserved a night off every once in a while anyway. He'd just gotten through two weeks of straight work, skipping his days off and bringing his work from the office home. Didn't he deserve a break?

And Misa, god, what was her problem? She was apparently stupid enough that she couldn't even pretend to know what he dealt with and shut up for one night to let him have his peace. It wasn't that he felt protective of her- he certainly didn't love her, and liking her was something that waxed and waned depending on how obnoxious she was that day- but he wasn't going to let her turn out like Nakagawa. Of course, with her leaving the fucking door unlocked all the time and dressing the way she did, she was practically INVITING that sort of thing, wasn't she? He wondered why he even bothered with her when she was so incapable of doing anything for herself. Always needing him to hold her hand. Always needing someone to talk with. Always needing.

Still, he would have been able to let it go if he hadn't heard the sound of the faucet turning on in the kitchen.

Light's head snapped towards the open kitchen towards the back of their apartment and was completely amazed by what he saw. Misa, with his glass, holding it under the the faucet. There was maybe a quarter glass of scotch in there, and she actually thought she could water it down and he wouldn't notice. Just how stupid was she? Moreover, how stupid did she think he was? He lurched off the couch, staggering slightly, and walked quickly over to her, catching her right as she turned around to come back to the couch. She jumped a little in surprise.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Light didn't even bother to contain his rage; he let it seethe across his features and through every word. She had to know that she fucked up this time. He wasn't going to let this happen.

“I- well, I-”

“Well, you WHAT? Can't you TALK? Can't you even do THAT without sounding stupid?” Her eyes shined with tears and she mumbled incoherently, but he wasn't going to stop now.

“Don't you cry at me. Don't you dare cry at me right now, not after what I caught you doing. Did you think I wasn't going to notice? Do you think I'm some sort of idiot? Do you think I got to where I am by being an idiot? No, I work a job where I can't DO that. Do you get it!?” His voice was thick and loud and Misa was openly crying now, but she opened her mouth just barely enough to say “I'm sor-” before, for the first time, Light slapped her.

He was quietly surprised that she stayed standing- he hadn't held back- though she did drop the glass, which hit the floor with a clunk without breaking. She pulled back to the counter and held her hands to her cheek and looked at him not with so much fear as incredulity- for once, he'd managed to truly surprise her, and Light knew at that exact moment that he'd fucked up and would somehow have to correct the situation. He softened his voice as much as he could and took a step towards her.

“Misa, I'm so sorry, I-”

“No!” Light was taken aback by just how loud she managed to be. “You don't- you can't- what do you think this is? Who ARE you?” She just stared at him for a moment and continued. “What the FUCK is wrong with you? I can't believe I've put up with you for so long! You come home, you set your things down, you watch TV, you ignore me, and you go to sleep, and every day you do the same thing!” And Misa's voice lowered from the shrill cry it was.

“But I know you. I know that you're not working as hard as you say you are. I've talked to Kurogawa and he says you haven't really worked on a case of his in months. And then you come back, say how tired you are, and do nothing. What is it?” Her voice became childish and curious but still laced with venom. “Are you bored with me? Is there some new little thing out there you're fucking? Am I just not good enough for you anymore? Or is it just that you've turned into a sad, useless, pathetic drunk?”

Light was frozen, somewhat amazed, and he smiled slightly. He wasn't angry about being called a drunk- really, that was true. He was a drunk and today proved it better than ever before. But useless? That made him angry, and so he decided to show her how useful he could be.

“You little bitch.” He didn't even sound angry- it was like any other phrase. He let the moment hang in the air before he snapped out, grabbed one of her pigtails, and started to pull her out of the kitchen.

“Stop it! Stop it!” She yelled, and Light couldn't help but laugh at it a little- did she really think he was going to stop it? After the shit that had come out of her mouth? He was still somewhat amazed at the fire she had in her, and the shamelessness- after all he'd done for her, given her a home, a life, a love, she still managed to find excuses to talk about him like that. After he was done with her, though, he didn't anticipate her arguing much from then on.

She struggled on the way back to the living room, trying to pull away from Light, even trying to give him a kick once, to which he responded with another hard slap which cracked out loudly into the odd silence of the apartment. The whole time she wailed, half pleas and insults, half animal-like noises of pain and distress that Light roundly ignored. She didn't think that any of THAT was going to dissuade him, did she? He laughed again while he half-dragged her. She'd brought it upon herself. If she'd just shut up and brought him his drink, this all could have been avoided, but she decided to be presumptuous, to assume that she knew what was best for him. That would have been a first.

It was only when Light actually got Misa back to the couch that it vaguely occurred to him that he didn't exactly have a plan of what he was going to do with her. She was still thrashing and pushing away, but he kept his hand steady, tugging a bit when he wanted her to settle down. Something clearly had to be done about the girl- he couldn't let this sort of insubordination happen in his own household. If he did, how would he be able to govern an entire world in the near future? One girl couldn't bring down the clear control he had. His silent question was answered when, amidst all of Misa's struggling, a pale, pink nipple slipped into view, just above her dress. She clearly didn't notice.

But he did. It caught his eye in a way Misa's nude body never quite had before. The way she was crying, moving, desperately trying to get away from him- it all vanished for a moment, and he was intent, almost curiously gazing at Misa's breasts, flushed with red from her exertion. He'd never seen her this... broken. So lacking in composure. He'd never seen her this frightened and desperate and angry, and for perhaps the first time in all the years he'd been with her, Light actually wanted to fuck her.

Light pushed Misa on her back onto the couch and leaned over her, pressing his arm flat across her chest to hold her down. He didn't move immediately- he just looked at her for a long moment, the way she mouthed words that he didn't bother to listen to, full, red lips and shining white teeth snarling and ranting and pleading- and he kissed her, making sure to dig one of his canines into her lower lip. Misa, curiously enough, got very still. He left his eyes open as he kissed her, as did she, and she made no effort to kiss him back or even resist by closing her mouth. She laid their like a doll with wide eyes and picture perfect eyelashes as still as he'd ever seen them. He pulled back just slightly, inches away from her face, and stared again, feeling the heat of her breath mixing with his own, and the rapid rise and fall of her chest against his arm.

“What are you going to do? Huh?”

She didn't say anything, and while holding her down, he pulled down the front of her dress, feeling the fabric getting stretched and ruined with every inch of pale skin he revealed. Her breath hitched as the black passed over her breasts and left her exposed.

“What, what-”

“Shut up.” He moved his arm up higher, closer to her throat, and her breathing was a little more ragged. He took his time with her dress, pulling it down inch by inch, under her breasts, then revealing the bare hint of her rib cage, then down across the smooth, flat expanse of her stomach until it was bunched up just below her navel. The thin, black straps that held it in place across her shoulders had snapped sometime during the process, and he hadn't noticed until they were already broken. He let the back of his hand drift across her breasts and her stomach, aimlessly trailing around her. Light felt like he was looking at her body for the very first time- it was all so gorgeous and seemingly untouched.

Misa didn't even get a word out before Light told her to shut up again and again pressed down harder with his arm, before abruptly pulling up off her. He stood up and seized her hair again and she let out a yelp of pain when he tugged.

“Get on your knees.”

“What!?”

“Didn't you hear me?”

Light roughly pushed her down to the floor and she sat there and looked up at him dazedly before he pulled her up again. She just sat there, legs folded under her for a second, looking up incredulously. He could barely stand that look she gave him: cow-like, afraid, and so totally confused.

“What? You don't know what's going to happen?”

He didn't let go of her hair, and with his other hands quickly undid his belt, pulled it off, and threw it aside. He looked at her and she looked at him and he grew more impatient with every moment she was wasting.

“Well? You know what to do. You've done it enough before.”

Tears started to spring from Misa's eyes, and she reached up with her small, trembling hands to unbutton his slacks. When she was moving too slowly, Light tugged her hair again, inspiring another yelp, and she clumsily sped up, unzipping him- and then she stopped, her hands resting against his hips. She didn't look at him.

“Fine. I'll make it easier for you since you always need my fucking help anyway.”

He reached down to his boxers, let a hand slip inside, and pulled out his cock. He was already hard- he had been since he had her on the couch.

“What now? Who's the useless one now?”

Misa staunchly refused to look up at him, but he could see the small trails of wetness that arced down her cheeks. Even the angle of her tears was beautiful.

“Suck.”

Her head snapped up at this and the expression in her eyes was pleading and desperate, but Light just drew her face towards him with a swift tug on her pigtail, and before she knew it, her face was pressed up against his cock, the shaft laying against her cheek. She shut her eyes hard. Light rook his cock and rubbed it against her face- over her cheek, the tip against her lips, across her jawline and back again, smearing her tears in the process.

“Open your mouth or I'm going to hit you again.”

This was where Misa finally let out a choking sob, mumbling frantically, half to herself, “I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry.” She said it over and over again and only interrupted it to breathe.

“I don't care if you're sorry. Open your mouth.”

And slowly, she did.

Light didn't waste any time and pushed his cock smoothly between her barely open lips. Almost reflexively, she started to suck, and closed her eyes, tears still streaking down. Light let his grip on her hair loosen little by little, and after a few moments, impassively stroked it while she sucked. Misa's tongue rolled around the head of his cock before sliding under it, pulling him deeper into her mouth, and he sighed appreciatively. Gently, he pushed her mouth off him and she looked up again, her tears momentarily ceasing.

“Are you sorry?”

Misa just nodded.

“Good girl.” And with that, he pulled her back towards him, and this time she didn't cry or struggle; she just took him back into her mouth and resumed sucking. Light's hands would fist her hair roughly every time she'd let her tongue ripple across him, and after a few of these, she moaned around him and pushed as much of his cock as she could fit down her throat before she noisily gagged and pulled back. Small droplets of saliva rolled down her lower lip, drying on her neck, and Light had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He held the back of her head in his hands and pushed her all the way down, and he could feel her hum out a suppressed moan as she swallowed around his cock, lodged deeper in her throat than she'd ever taken before.

Light thought about letting her continue, pulling her head down to the hilt and coming down her throat- she'd clearly learned her lesson and wasn't fighting him anymore. However, he thought he'd take advantage of his sudden, new-found interest in Misa and what he could do to her. This was better than he'd ever felt with her before, for some reason he couldn't exactly explain. Usually he let Misa just do her work and let it be over with, but now, taking a more active role, he was suddenly starting to understand why the girl was always so enthusiastic about the act. Again, he gently pulled her off of him, and now the look in her eyes was just quizzical- why are we stopping?

“Lay over the couch.”

Misa nodded and laid her body on the cushions, leaving her knees on the floor, ass as high in the air as she could get it. Light knelt behind her, pushed her dress up so it was bunched around her midsection, and pulled her panties down, Misa lifting one leg, then the other so they could be slipped off entirely. Without prompting, she spread her legs wide for him and burrowed her body down further into the cushions. Her slit was wet and ready, and Light rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her entrance. Misa shuddered in response, and Light was about to enter her when he was struck by another idea entirely.

Light and Misa had never had anal sex- it didn't particularly appeal to his sensibilities, and Misa had never requested it- but suddenly he felt like trying. His cock was still slick, lubricated with Misa's spit, and the untouched pink of her anus was suddenly gorgeous to him- an entirely new experience for him, and Light was never one not to try new things when they presented themselves.

Light let the tip of his cock press against Misa's ass, and she suddenly tensed, her breath hitching, and she looked back at him with surprise and shock written on her face- but only for a moment. Then her eyes became half-lidded, and she turned back around, spreading her legs wider, resting tranquilly on the couch as though nothing odd was happening. He took that as a sign that she accepted it- good, he thought. He didn't want to have to hit her again. Slowly, he pushed in.

He'd never felt anything as tight as that before, and Misa was clearly uncomfortable- her toes clenched and unclenched, her breathing was tense and shaky, and her hands bunched the fabric of the cushions he rested on. An inch at a time, he slid in, until he was finally buried all the way inside her. It was heavenly: hot, wet, tight, and completely untouched, a special place left all for him. Just as slowly as he entered, he pulled out, and little by little, Misa started to relax with his thrusts. As he fucked her, he laid heavily against her back, biting at the skin of her shoulder every time she'd involuntarily squeeze around him.

Light felt some movement under him not matching his thrusts, and Misa began to moan and shudder. Rising off her just enough to check, he saw one of Misa's hands between her legs, two fingers buried in her cunt, thrusting in time with him. He bit back a moan when he saw this and laid on her again, biting viciously into her shoulder as he pumped in and out and she did the same. She began to thrust back towards him in time, eagerly and quietly asking for more with every passing second. Light grabbed her arms and crossed them behind her back, seizing her wrists together in one hand and grabbing her hair (which by now had fallen into complete disarray) with the other.

Light pulled hard on her hair while he fucked her and she moaned loud and long into the air, her back arching involuntarily as he pulled her back further and further. He let her wrists go (and one hand immediately returned to her cunt) and roughly groped one of her breasts while never letting go of her hair, pinching and pulling at her nipple while he violently fucked her ass, almost begging her to protest again. But she didn't- she took it all and groaned with every new bite, thrust, or pull he added.

“Say you want it,” he whispered in her ear.

“I want it, I fucking want it, I'm sorry,” was her response, half-moaned, half-sobbed while he fucked her. At that moment, they were both done- Misa bit into the fabric of the couch to hold back a scream, and Light pulled out of her abruptly. He came onto her ass and slit, and his semen dripped down her thighs, droplets hitting the wood floor and some managing to even find their way onto the ruins of Misa's dress.

Light stood up, delirious, and grabbed Misa's panties from the floor. Wrapping them around his cock, he used them to wipe himself off and threw them onto Misa's back. She didn't react to it and simply laid on the couch, eyes wide, breathing deeply and staying very still. Light staggered back to their bedroom and barely managed to pull his shoes off before he passed out on the bed, but Misa simply laid there on the couch, cum staining her clothes, makeup and hair ruined, and entire body in pain, for what seemed to her like a very long time indeed.
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Humiliation March