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Mai-Tai	By : TalaXRei Category: -Misc Anime > Het - Male/Female Views: 1788 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Parade/Desu Parēdo, nor the characters from it. I do not make money from the writing of this story. Death Parade/Desu Parēdo and its respective characters are (c) to Yuzuru Tachikawa.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Epilogue
- 1
- 2
With a desire to better know his beguiling assistant, Chiyuki, and gain a greater understanding of human behaviour on a whole, Decim’s been reading some interesting material. [M/F/NonCon/Bon/Rape/AU/Kink/Complete]
So, I got an idea one afternoon which turned into this trigger-happy clusterfuck of a non-con fiction. I’ve labelled it as AU so I can’t be faulted for inconsistencies and plotholes and character behaviour and yada-yada from fellow fans. (Even though I think I captured the character’s behaviour well despite the grave element of the story.) Also, I can’t stop writing Death Parade fiction. Send help.

They came fast, barely visible in the mellow coloured lights of the bar. A chorus of airy hissing that was heard a second too late as they shot toward her, like a nest of livid vipers for the strike, snagging both her ankles and wrists. Chiyuki barely had a second to get her head around what had happened before she was hoisted into the air and strung up, suspended like a star half a foot off the dark marble tiles. She released shocked cry, swinging from her tethers.

      “No, wait! Decim!” She blinked in bewilderment at the arbiter before her. Her rocking ceased, her restrained body coming to a standstill. Panic crawled over her chest.

      He, however, gazed back at her as apathetic as ever.

      “What do you think you’re doing?”

      What indeed. Never had he handled her in such a way. Never. Chiyuki’s eyes darted up to the strings at her arms, pulling ardently against her bonds. The drawn metal wire cut into her silver skin with each tug, sharp as blades, forcing her escape attempts short. What they were fastened to up there in the inky shadows of Quindecim’s high ceiling remained a mystery. Chiyuki had seen them come down seemingly at Decim’s will. Even then they'd been hard to see. She'd witnessed them ensnare the guests like caged hares, the one's who had become violent, and drag them off screaming into the darkness.

      But Chiyuki hadn’t been violent. She had not done anything to receive this ilk of treatment. Given, she had lashed out at him once or twice for his injudicious decisions on the guest's fates, and in a sole moment of emotion-riddled passion she'd even slapped his chest in a fit of tears. But she had never been truly violent, never armed with malicious intent. He knew that. Surely. Decim appreciated her insights and theories, he had told her that himself on more than one occasion.

      She was guilty of nothing, yet subjected to arrest. And that frightened her.

      “Untie me!”

      “I’m afraid I cannot do that,” came the arbiter’s immediate reply, his well-spoken voice devoid of feeling. Like always.

      Decim had rarely exhibited an emotion beside fleeting moments of surprise, moments of which, for the majority, Chiyuki had personally incited. And those really were scarce. Diamond dust. He wasn’t like her; Chiyuki had to remind herself of that from time to time. He was a doll, possessing not even a shred of soul to call his own. An unfeeling shell. Now she felt that reality in its full glory, as it manifested anew in the form of growing disquiet.

      “W-why not?”

      “There is something I would like to attempt.”

      She couldn’t help but notice he had deserted his customary, “with your permission” that he usually added at the end of such sentences. He didn’t leave room to question further. Decim took a step toward her. In response, Chiyuki shrunk back against her restraints only to sway back into place like a marionette on tangled strings, inhaling sharply as the steel bit into her skin again. She was too scared to look away from him, as if soing so would cause her immediate demise.

      “Decim,” she warned quietly.

      Never shifting his gaze—that inert, unearthly shade of blue—from her face, the doll proceeded toward her until he was within an armsreach. From the height she was dangled, his head came in level with the hillocks of her bust.

      “The thirty-eighth floor of this building acts as a repository,” he began. “We arbiters use it primarily as a library. I’ve already expressed to you my interest in better acquainting myself with you and I believe I’ve found the answer to doing so.”

      Even though Decim’s ashen face did not alter physically, there was something that passed between the two. An aura, or a vague look of understanding.

      A horrifying understanding.

      Very prudently, as if handling the exquisitely cut crystal he housed behind the bar, Decim’s hand left its position at his thigh and rose. His fingertips touched the small silver button that held her blazer together. Although his touch was delicate and gentle, every move listless, it was enough to send Chiyuki’s heart plummeting into the icy depths of her gut. She resisted from flinching, her natural given response in this situation, staying mindful of the narrow wires at her wrists and ankles. They ha already drawn first blood. She took a deep, steadying breath to calm herself.

      But her voice laid bare her nervousness. “And where did you get that idea exactly?” She asked as Decim picked the disk free from its eyelet.

      Liberated from its fastening, the dark navy garment split over the generous swell of her breasts, exposing the mauve bandeau beneath it. Unlike most men in this situation, the mannequin’s eyes did not descend to steal a glimpse. But Decim wasn’t most men. He wasn’t even human beyond his appearance. He was a pretence in physical form.

      “Like I explained previously, there is a repository on the thirty-eighth floor. We use it as a library. Whilst I was there, I discovered a book that garnered my interest.”

      “Care to elaborate?”

      “Certainly,” Decim replied, leisurely skimming his long fingers this way then that to brush the lapels from the contours of her breasts, fully exposing the undergarment.

      Chiyuki’s gaze followed his fingers, only now daring to break eye contact. He behaved as if what he was doing was perfectly normal, as if she were some precious entity or object he didn’t desire to maim with rough handling, contrary to the wires used to subdue her. It was like she held no say on the matter.

      “The book in question detailed quite graphically your species’ sexual activity and how it plays into social betterments.”

      Her heart died before it beat again. Chiyuki felt her countenance cracking beneath the brittle facade of control she had somehow managed to keep hold of in the face of this lunacy. She felt that control flaking away like paint on a worn child’s toy, terror and distress filtering through to replace it.

      Decim saw it. His lone visible eye traced over her twitching, downturned mouth before returning to her face.

      “You don’t agree? I see. Interesting. I saw in your memories you had a male friend, one you appeared to be quite close to.”

      If she had had any qualms regarding his intentions, they were vanquished now.

      Chiyuki shook her head and slowly looked back at him. “Why are you doing this?” She whispered.

      “I have already answered that question,” Decim retuned politely. His index finger traced from the hollow of her slender throat down the length of her sternum, running over the prepossessing gold and emerald pendant that dipped into the shadows of her cleavage.

      “But what you’re doing—what you’re about to do, is wrong. Morally and ethically. You need to understand that, Decim. Don’t do this! Please.”

      “I read that protests are to be understood as assentive. Women are apparently quite vocal when it comes to coitus, especially in their denial.”

      Chiyuki didn’t dare ask what type of material it was he had found in their archives. Everything felt so manufactured. Impersonal. It was only recently that she had learned what she really was beneath this skin, but now she truly felt like a doll. A toy, a plaything, for another plaything. He was a creature that was making something that should be affectionate and romantic into... this.

      Maybe, if this had come about in differing circumstances, then she would have... she...

      His fist hand join his second at her ribcage, sliding up in unison beneath the bottom of the bandeau. His hands on her ribcage felt cold, his fingertips brushed the undersides of her breasts. She stammered protests that fell on deaf ears, her face turning a deep shade of pink. Decim slid the fabric up and over the ample hills of her breasts, the soft white flesh falling free, prickling in the still air. He left the garment abandoned, rucked up over her sternum.

      Breasts now fully exposed and unable to hide her nakedness, Chiyuki averted her eyes from his face, burning all over with embarrasment and discomfort. His monotony was soul-piercing. Decim took each nipple between forefinger and thumb and rolled the rosy flesh between them until they began to harden. It didn't take long. Chiyuki but down the inner wall of her cheek to supress a mumble and tensed up.

      “So do you enjoy this sensation?”

      “...No.”

      He was silent a moment, hands working their lethargic undesired magic. “Interesting. Your body reacts otherwise.”

      It was an involuntary reaction to his unsolicited grooming, anyone could tell him that. But Chiyuki knew any form of argument she provided would be disregarded. She felt violated but knew the worst that could happened—would happen—was yet to come. Jesus, she prayed to whatever god up there that may exist that it didn’t come to that, that it wouldn't go that far. Chiyuki wanted nothing but for Decim to come to his senses and stop this, beg her for her forgiveness. At this point the damage inflicted could be overlooked with time. But if this went any further...

      Decim's fingers tightened, flattening the erect nubbins before slowly pulling. Her breasts formed into a taut cone. Chiyuki hissed through her teeth, a twinge of pain mixed with other unwanted sensations raced through her nervous system. She refused to look at him, but Chiyuki could feel him studying her, watching in his own fascinated, little way for her reactions.

      Learning from her. She was an experiment.

      Decim didn’t press her for a further answer or explination. Perhaps he felt her body had answered for her with its contradictory reactions. He brought his head forward, shifting his hand to cup one heavy breast and slipped the nipple between his linear lips.

      This time, it took effort not to make a sound of any emotion. For some reason Chiyuki hadn’t expected his body to feel so... hot. It was a silken cavern, honeyed and moist. And still unwelcome.

      Decim watched her through his eyelashes, that same unaffected stare as he sucked her into his mouth and teased her on his tongue. She caught his stare for a second before tearing her eyes away, her head drooping against her upraised arm, staring decisively polished tiles and the way the soft lights reflected off them, too ashamed to watch him.

      He went between one nipple and the other, teasing with fingers and tongue in turn. Chiyuki had always been sensitive around her bust: a touch to her pastel skin was enough to arouse her. Decim’s single-minded stimulation of them, using hands, lips, teeth and tongue, was unbearable ecstasy met with overlaying mortification. She shuddered against him, trying to lose herself in thought and remove herself from this reality. It succeeded, until she was yanked back by a hand snaking between her legs.

      Chiyuki jerked violently in her bonds, gasping in agony as the wire cut into her again. She'd forgotten about the metal strings. She felt the slice on her bound skin, like a knife on butter. She twisted her head to stare at him, face as red as a poppy flower. From beneath her blunt bangs, magenta eyes wide and filled afresh with alarm and fear, glittered with an ocean of swiftly-gathering tears.

      “No! I mean it, stop it! Stop it right now—!”

      “I don’t think that’s a genuine implication, Chiyuki-san.” He softly returned, stroking with the flats of his fingers the silken fabric which hid beneath it the plush outer folds of her sex. “Is it not true that when females say that they really mean for their counterpart to keep going?”

      He pressed harder, fractionally but noticeably, slowing down as his touch glided over her clitoris. Chiyuki threw her head to the side again, her long dark hair hiding her face from the observing mannequin. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. She bit the arm of her blazer as the first tear rolled down her cheek despite her efforts, taking a mouthful of the woven fabric to silence her ragged breathing.

      This wasn’t happening, she told herself. It wasn't. Feeling her body rouse against her will, her pleasure bud stirring from beneath its fleshy hood, could have made her sick. This wasn’t how she wanted this to play out. Oh god. She wished, almost as much as she wished she could reverse her suicide, that she wasn’t in this situation.

      Decim sensed the part of her that responded to him, that caused her thighs to tremble each time. Focusing entirely on her erect clitoris, he massaged it in circular motions, steady and strong. Chiyuki's body flittered against the quickly-sopping fabric over her sex as he suckled on a dusky teat, and to her utter dismay she felt her orgasm gathering at the pit of her being at an alarming pace. Her stomach churned with nausea and unwilling tantalisation at his actions, loathing herself just as much for her natural reactions.

      No, oh god. She didn’t want this.

      She scrunched her eyes, tears flowed freely, tainted black by her spolit mascara, shot in miniature rivers down her cheeks. They left small, dark patches of grey on the arm of her blazer. As her body recoiled, repulsed by the sexual gratification of the assault, her libido arched against the desire he inflicted. At war with herself, body to soul. Chiyuki lifted her hips against his fingers and arched her back into his mouth. It was a mistake.

      She heard a soft breath escape his nostrils, feeling it brush her saliva-laced skin. Surprise. She had no doubt of that. As she'd recalled, Decim displayed little else beside that. While he kneaded her clitoris, two long fingers slid beneath the elasticated band of her thong and burrowed their way inside her. They pressed to the muscular inner wall of her dripping sweetness, almost knowingly seeking that sensitive spot deep within. He found it. Chiyuki's body quavered, she tightened up on his fingers, her legs held firmly in place by steel threads quaked violently on the onset of her orgasm. She was poised on the edge, not quite pushed over but tottering on the brink.

Oh good god—!

      He released her nipple with a wet suck, his lips drenched in moisture that glinted in the encompassing pastel lights.

      “You’re about to come, aren’t you?” His voice held no sensuality. He pressed a kiss to her quaking sternum, her chest rising and falling rapidly, feeling her heart thunder beneath his lips as his fingers still worked relentlessly between her legs.

      Chiyuki cried against her arm, refusing to move her head, refusing to let him see her face, refusing to acknowledge him, refusing to participate in this rape. But her body was not hers to control. And at the exact moment she came, with a little broken screech muffled by the fabric in her mouth, Decim took his fingers away, leaving her empty as the wingbeats of her climax took her soaring through the air. He adjusted his touch, pressing his wet fingertips gently against the pulsating lips of her sweet spent flesh, feeling the periodic tremor as the unwanted satisfaction washed over her.

      It had been the most powerful orgasm she had ever experienced, and had been induced by a creature who had cast it against her will. Chiyuki gasped and shuddered, slumped lifeless in her metal bonds, wishing she had the ability to die all over again.

      This was hell. It had to be. There was no other explanation.

      Finally his hands left her body entirely. After her orgasm had completely subsided Chiyuki rubbed her wet, reddened face against her arm and cleared her throat with a choke. There was silence filled with only her laboured, strained breathing. Then she wheeled her head around to glare venomously at him from beneath the shade of her bangs, the tendrils of which clung to the damp patches of her face and forehead. It wounded her to meet his gaze after such an act.

      “Are you satisfied?” She asked quietly, unable to keep the poisonous tone from it. She just couldn’t, not now. “You done?”

      His expression changed naught, even when his gaze fell to eye the blackened wet streaks on her face from weeping. He wiped his mouth and fingers with a cloth napkin he pulled from his apron before replacing it and lowering his hands to pluck at the knot. “I think we are making progress,” he said, “But, please, bear with me a moment longer. I am not yet finished.”

      Chiyuki felt her heart leap up her throat as the apron hit the floor with a heavy sigh of fabric about his feet. Her narrowed eyes widened.

      Oh Christ. He was removing his clothing.

      Decim stepped out of the crude halo the apron had formed on the marble slabs and gently swept it to one side with the inside of his loafer. Then he reached for her, both arms up, like some gangling creature in a horror movie.

      Chiyuki stiffened up, preparing for his dispassionate touch to her bare skin again. But it didn’t happen. Instead Decim reached behind her, his hands going out of sight. He stood so close to her, the scent of him flooding her nostrils, the thick curling locks of silver-blue at his crown was satiny beneath her chin. It tickled.

      She thought for a moment he was going to let her down, embrace her, apologise for hurting her and everything between. She even let herself feel relief. Then she felt his hands trailing the fabric of her skirt, that feather-light touch roaming down over the hard, toned muscles of her backside. He gripped the hem and, just as he had with the bandeau still hanging loose above her breasts, he peeled it upward, exposing inch by inch the creamy white contours of her thighs and rump.

      Her face flared. She whimpered helplessly and forced herself back away from him only to be reminded the attempt was futile. It wasn't over, she realised with icy dread as he hoisted the garment to sit just above her rounded hips.

      And for the first time since he had snared her, Decim lowered his gaze.

      Chiyuki felt her heart wither and die somewhere behind her ribcage.

      “Periwinkle is a befitting shade on you, Chiyuki-san,” he offered as a banal compliment.

      Chiyuki wilted her gaze as he returned his to her face, their glances only crossing for a milisecond in passing. She felt her face stinging with the heat of a million emotions. She didn't even believe a single one alone was responsible for how she felt.

      “Don’t...” was all she mustered weakly as his thumbs hooked beneath the lacey straps of her thong and peeled down. The delicate gauzy item slid down her thighs, falling silently to her splayed ankles when he released it, like a flower's petal. She was sparkling, wet and slippery from her orgasm. She could feel her body’s disloyalty, smell it amidst the residue of rich cigar smoke and alcohol.

      “You keep saying that,” Decim observed. “They most certainly did not jest about how vocal you would be.”

      Unbuckling his belt and button, Decim pushed his trousers slowly down from his lean hips and stepped out of them like he had his overalls. He stood before her, displaying his jutting shaft. Above the smooth asymmetric sac of his scrotum it thrust out and upward from the salt and papper curls of his pubis, slightly curved like a sabre. Light gleamed off its uncapped glans and Chiyuki stared transfixed by it.

      His fierce erection clearly showed he was capable of sexual excitement yet not once did she see his face display a single element of lust. And now, that was going inside her.

      Oh Christ. It was going inside her.

      He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her toward him. She screamed uncontrollably, half mad with fear, her head thrashing side to side, begging him through whimpers to stop. The wires slit her wrists and ankles but she didn’t stop, even though it was excruciating. She needed to get away. The head of his cock brushed against her thigh as if eager for the warmth of her tight, silken innards. He stepped up between her thighs and positioned himself, aligning his cockhead to her entrance.

      Her flesh shrivelled. She tried to bring her legs together but with the arbiter stood between them and her tethers keeping her in place like an animal on a leash, it was hopeless. Decim took the squeezing of her thighs on his hips as impatience, wordlessly urging him to penetrate her. He did do.

      He entered with ease, Chiyuki's traitorous body more then prepared for him. She was slick as if smeared in oil inside and out. She gritted her teeth as he pressed forward, feeling his girth spread her wide. It was painful, so painful, but she supposed bitterly in the back of her conscious that was no wider or initially uncomfrotable than usual. In all honesty, now she thought about it, Chiyuki couldn’t recall how sex felt, her erased memory having come here aiding to that. But she knew it was meant to be something wonderful, exhilarating and loving, earth-shattering and magnificent.

      That wasn't what this was. This was something twisted, something austere and negligent. A doll had made this into a logical social science. And with it, any chance of their tender friendship evolving into something sweet and beautiful and innocent on its own, in the future, perished.

      His shaft reached the neck of her cervix. He'd eased himself inside to the hilt. Well, eased in as much as Chiyuki's body could accomodate anyway. Lord she hoped there wasn't anymore. Her bound and averse body subjected, stretched about his smooth, pale phallus. Inside her he felt twice as huge. Good god, it hurt. It hurt so much. She opened her mouth but no words came out. Nothing but serrated breathing and strangulated whines. He remained perfectly still, motionless for what felt like an eternity, as if savouring the sensation of her cocooning sheath, experiencing this sensation for the first time himself, silently watching her and gauging her for a response.

      None came. She gave nothing. She threw her head back and swallowed hard, shallow breaths.

      “You’re very warm,” he commented. Empty. Passionless.

      Her taut vaginal muscles spasmed, accompanied by a gasp that was near a shriek. Chiyuki lolled her head forward, painted lips wet and quivering pared back as if in incomprehensible anguish. Tears glazed her mallow eyes, gathering like small diamonds on the long lashes of her lower eyelids, threatening to fall faster then she could hope to stop them.

      “Take it out,” she begged in a heaving whisper. The first tear broke and plummeted, following the path its predecessor had taken. “P-Please. Please Decim, I'm begging you! Pl—”

      “I’m to understand that as you do not wish me to.”

      She sobbed, letting her head droop, before howling desparingly, “Why won’t you listen to me?”

      Decim did not answer her this time. Instead he began to move, withdrawing almost completely from her, leaving only the heart-shaped head of his cock lodged in the clenching tunnel of her sweet hole. He was coated in her juices, their pearlescent colour almost ibvisible against his deathly complextion. He gazed upon down upon it, expression impassive, before sliding the entirety back up inside her.
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Mai-Tai