EMPRESS F!READER X TOJI FUSHIGURO (AND MENTIONS OF NANAMI, GETO, SUKUNA, SHIU)
SUMMARY in the wake of betrayal, you the goddess finds yourself in toji’s arms his touch both a comfort and a trap, as devotion blurs into possession and pleasure becomes its own form of conquest.
CW smut/nsfw (18+), manipulation and gaslighting, virginity loss/first time, corruption kink, breeding and cum play with impregnation talk, power imbalance between divine empress and male dominance, misandry vs masculinity themes, voyeurism with a wife overhearing, mild violence and blood mention
DISCLAIMER this is a dark work of fanfiction. themes include heavy misandry, manipulation, and sexual degradation. all characters are adults. nothing here reflects real-life consent or relationships. read responsibly. do not steal, copy, or repost.
the room is too large for your sobs. the vaulted ceilings echo every sound, your grief bouncing back at you until you feel surrounded by your own pain. you lie in your huge princess bed, the silks cold against your skin, crown still heavy on your head, tears running hot down your cheeks. your wives had betrayed you, and you could not understand it. a woman betraying another woman it ripped you apart deeper than the blade that killed megumi.
“how,” your voice cracks into the emptiness, “how can a woman betray her own?”
the doors creak open. you do not give permission, yet he enters.
not crawling. not kneeling. he walks in like he owns the palace, shoulders broad, chest bare, his body glistening faintly from the bath. water still clings to his skin, beads trailing down carved muscle, his torso thick and cut like a greek statue. his scars only make him more brutal, proof of survival etched into flesh. a white silk towel is slung low around his hips, the fabric straining over the swell beneath. his cock presses against it obscenely, heavy, long, impossible to ignore.
your breath hitches, but you cannot rise. you are too weak with grief.
he does not ask. he comes to your bed, and the mattress sinks beneath his weight as he slides in beside you, the heat of his body swallowing yours. his arm curls around your trembling frame, pulling you into the wall of his chest.
“shhh,” he murmurs, lips brushing your damp cheek, kissing away tears. his voice is low, steady, filled with that dangerous calm. “you cry for women, but even women can betray. even they can falter.”
you shake your head against him, whispering brokenly, “but they are mine.. how could they do this to me..”
his hand slides up, big and rough, cupping your head. he hushes you softly, thumb brushing your temple. “not me. never me. i killed my own son for you. do you understand what that means? i gave up blood, flesh, legacy. all so your throne would be safe.”
he leans forward, kissing your cheeks, your wet lashes, kissing the crown itself. then, slowly, he lifts it from your head. the metal gleams as he sets it aside on the silk sheets.
“you don’t need this,” he whispers, tugging you closer until you’re flush against his chest, your face buried in the heat of his skin. “you need me. your dog, your man, your sword.”
you whimper softly, nodding, helpless under the weight of his words.
the towel shifts. his cock grinds against your hip, hot and swollen, the length of it pressing insistently through the silk. his breath grows heavier, lips dragging down to your ear as he moves his hips slowly, deliberately, letting you feel every inch of him.
“this cock,” he murmurs, voice ragged with hunger, “has been full of love for you since the day you took your mother’s legacy. i watched you rise. i watched you sit on that throne. and i was terrified, terrified that you would bind your womb to another man of royalty, waste your softness on someone unworthy.”
you whimper again, confused, your fingers trembling against his chest. “toji…”
he kisses your mouth then slow, damp, breaking you open. the towel slips lower as he grinds harder, the head of his cock pushing free, sliding against your thigh slick with pre.
“you don’t have to think,” he whispers between kisses, kissing your tears, kissing the corner of your lips. “just let me help you. let me take it all away.”
his hand closes around yours, guiding it to his cock, pressing your palm against the thick shaft, the heat searing. your lips part in shock at how big, how heavy he is.
“see?” his grin is soft, dangerous. “only this. only me. this cock is yours, goddess. it belongs nowhere else. i’ll kill anyone who touches you. i’ll kill anyone who whispers against you. i’ll kill every betrayer and lay their heads at your feet.”
he shifts, rolling over you, the towel slipping fully away, his cock exposed now veined, massive, curved like a weapon and a gift. your eyes widen, tears still wet on your cheeks, your lips trembling as he cages you beneath his body.
his hands stroke your sides gently, soothing, his voice low, coaxing, as if this were comfort, not conquest.
“let me inside,” he whispers, kissing your forehead, kissing your trembling lips again. “let me love you the way no woman, no man ever could. let me prove i am the only one who will never betray.”
you whimper softly, clueless, nodding against his mouth. and toji smiling like a beast who has finally cornered his prey parts your thighs and slides himself into the divine cunt no man has ever touched.
soothing, as if he were healing you.
and with every thrust, every kiss to your tears, every word murmured against your skin, he wraps your grief into chains and locks them to his cock.
“only me,” he whispers, filling you deeper, voice breaking. “only my cock. only your dog who became your man.”
his towel is gone. the last veil between you torn away, leaving only the brutal weight of his body above you. his cock presses against your cunt, thick and hot, the head nudging at your folds as if it knows it does not need permission.
you tremble beneath him, tears streaking your face, whispering brokenly, “it’s too much, toji… too big.."
he hushes you, kissing your cheek, kissing the wet line of your tears. his voice is low, steady, soaked in dominance. “shhh. it’s your first time. it’s supposed to hurt. it’s supposed to break you open. but my cock is the only one strong enough to fit here. no other man deserves it.”
slow, deliberate, sinking inch by inch into your untouched cunt. the stretch is unbearable, a sharp ache that makes your nails dig into his back, your body arching as if you could escape. but he holds you down, one massive hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other guiding his cock deeper into your virgin heat.
you sob, tears spilling, your lips gasping out whimpers. “toji ahh, it’s too much, please.."
his mouth presses to your ear, his words twisting your cries into submission. “no, goddess. it’s perfect. your pussy was made for me. it was waiting for me. feel it how it grips me, how it cries for me. no one else will ever fill you like this.”
he bottoms out, thick cock buried to the hilt, your womb trembling against the blunt head. you cry out, loud, broken, the sound echoing off the high chamber walls.
his lips curl against your throat as he groans, “fuck… so tight. so untouched. taking me for the first time. i’ll carve my shape into your cunt so deep, no other cock will ever fit.”
slow, lazy thrusts, dragging his cock out until your walls clutch desperately, then sinking back in until you’re stuffed full, moaning through the pain. his pace is steady, soothing, but each stroke is laced with absolute control. his hips grind into you with dominance, reminding you who owns the body you once swore no man would ever touch.
your tears mix with sweat, your body trembling beneath him as the ache melts into a strange, unbearable pleasure. every thrust scrapes against something deep, every push fills you until your womb feels stretched, conquered.
“cry for me,” he murmurs, kissing your temple, your jaw, the corner of your lips. “cry from the fullness. cry from the truth that no woman, no man, no servant could ever give you this.”
and you do. sobbing as you cling to his back, nails raking down the thick muscles, your legs wrapping around his waist as instinct betrays you and drags him deeper.
he groans, low and guttural, hips rolling slow. “good goddess. take it. take my cock. the strongest cock in this palace. the only cock worthy of your divine cunt.”
you whimper, broken, nodding, lost. “yes… yes, toji…”
his thrusts deepen, grinding until your body shakes, your moans rising higher, the first orgasm tearing through you with violent shock. you scream, tears spilling as your cunt clenches hard around his cock, milking him desperately.
toji groans into your ear, thrusting through your climax, his voice raw with triumph. “that’s it. cum for me. cum on my cock. cry, goddess. let every man, every woman hear you and know you belong to me now.”
he fucks you through it, slow and dominant, until you’re gasping, trembling, your crown abandoned on the sheets and your cunt claimed in the laziest, most brutal way by the cock of the man you once called dog.
his pace never falters. slow, steady, grinding strokes that drag his cock against every trembling inch of your cunt. your body is overwhelmed, stretched wide, the ache drowned in waves of sharp pleasure that make you sob into his shoulder.
his hand never leaves your wrists, pinning them above your head against the silk pillows. the other cups your jaw, thumb swiping away tears as he kisses your wet cheeks.
“good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and steady, “cry for me. cry from being filled. you’re so tight, so holy. my cock was made for this. your womb was waiting for me.”
you moan brokenly, legs locked around his thick waist, your heels digging into the hard muscle of his back. every thrust drags a cry from your throat, every grind pushes deeper into the softness no one has touched before.
“toji ahhh it’s too much..!"
he hushes you, kissing your mouth until your whimpers dissolve into his lips. “shhh. it’s never too much. your goddess cunt was made to stretch for me. only me. no man of royalty, no scheming priest, no servant dog. only me.”
his hips roll heavier, cock throbbing deep, the veins scraping your walls. you feel him swelling, his breath growing ragged.
“fuck,” he groans, pressing his forehead to yours. “gonna cum inside you. gonna bless your womb with the first seed it’s ever known. no one else gets this. no one. only me.”
your body shakes, the words cracking you open more than the thrusts. “n-no, i.."
but your cunt betrays you, clenching, milking him greedily.
he growls, hips slamming flush as his cock pulses deep inside you. the heat floods, thick ropes spilling into your womb, filling you until your stomach feels heavy, until your thighs quiver around his waist.
you cry out, loud and broken, the feeling of being filled for the first time overwhelming you into another orgasm, cunt spasming as you soak the sheets beneath you.
toji groans against your lips, still grinding slow, making sure every drop stays inside. “that’s it. take it. take my cum. your womb belongs to me now. no other man will ever spill here. no woman’s tongue can reach this deep. only my cock. only me.”
he kisses your face, your neck, your damp lashes, whispering as you sob.
“you’re mine, goddess. your crown, your cunt, your womb mine. i’ll kill anyone who betrays you. i’ll kill anyone who even dreams of you. i’ll keep filling you until you forget every other name but mine.”
you whimper, helpless, broken, nodding softly against his chest.
he strokes your hair, soothing, while his cock still twitches inside you, his seed leaking deep into your body.
the crown lies forgotten on the sheets.
and you empress, goddess, virgin no longer cry into his chest as he whispers promises of blood and love into the ear of his new, conquered queen.
your thighs tremble, your cunt still stretched and pulsing around him, but you try to shift, to rise, the instinct to clean yourself clawing up through your shame. his arm tightens around you, pinning you down into the silks. his voice rumbles low against your ear, dangerous and steady.
“don’t,” he whispers, dragging his cock lazily inside you, his seed already leaking down your folds. “don’t wash me out. you’ll keep it. all of it.”
you gasp, your face burning, tears smearing your cheeks. “toji, i… what if what if i get pregnant?”
he laughs under his breath, slow and cruel, grinding his hips forward until the thick head of his cock presses deep against your womb. “then your womb will be mine twice over. you’ll carry me inside you every hour of every day. no court, no wives, no men will ever doubt who owns you when your belly swells with my seed.”
you shiver, crying softly, but his words melt into you, sinking past your resistance like honey over fire.
“don’t be scared,” he murmurs, kissing your temple, licking a tear from your cheek. “you’ll be safe. i’ll kill every man, every woman who tries to touch you. your cunt will never know another cock. your womb will never know another bloodline.”
he begins to move again. slow, heavy thrusts, grinding deep, stuffing his cum back inside you with each lazy push of his hips. your body quivers, overstimulated, the wet squelch obscene as his seed drips from your pussy, down your thighs, staining the silk.
“see how it leaks,” he growls, pulling out just enough for thick white to spill before slamming back in, forcing it higher. “your body tries to waste me, but i won’t let it. i’ll stuff you until you’re dripping for days.”
you cry out, legs locking around his waist, nails clutching at his shoulders. your cunt clenches, aching and messy, the feeling of being bred for the first time tearing another moan from your throat.
behind the door, unheard at first, a soft sob.
one of your wives. she had followed the sound of your cries, pressed her ear against the golden frame, only to hear your broken moans, his filthy promises, the wet squelch of his cock using you. her fingers clutch at her dress, knuckles white, tears streaking her face as she realizes what has been taken from her.
inside, you whimper again, voice breaking. “toji… it’s too much… i can’t.."
he hushes you with a kiss, never stopping the slow grind of his cock. “yes you can. you’re my goddess. you were made to take me. to carry me. to worship me the way your wives never could.”
the sheets are soaked beneath you, his seed smeared down your thighs, but still he moves slow, dominant, endless grinding you into his shape, binding you with cum and control.
and outside, your wife weeps silently, listening to the ruin of her goddess, powerless, jealous, broken.
your bed still smells of him. the sheets still cling to your thighs with his seed. your tears have dried on your cheeks but your body trembles with the strange fullness he left behind. you sleep in his arms, his heavy chest pressed to your back, while outside your wives are wide awake.
they gather without you in the inner chamber, faces pale, eyes red. the betrayal of one of their own has poisoned them, left a wound that only blood can heal. masako.
the youngest wife speaks first, her voice sharp as broken glass. “our goddess gave her womb to a man. do you not see? she is slipping from us. all because of masako.”
the others nod, some weeping, some snarling, all of them seething with the same jealous fire. they whisper that you were theirs, that they licked your cunt, that they scissored you in devotion night after night, and now you moan for a man because masako let nanami’s words poison the palace.
“we have to give her back to our goddess,” one hisses. “give her what masako stole. an apology made of blood.”
masako, foolish, pretties herself for her secret meeting, slipping into silks, painting her lips, ready to sneak toward nanami’s dorm. she thinks of his voice, how he told her she was more than your shadow, that her body deserved devotion too. her heart pounds with the thrill of betrayal.
but the door closes behind her with a heavy thud.
they circle her, eyes glinting in the lamplight, voices like knives.
masako stumbles back, her face blanching, but they crowd her in, spitting their words.
she screams, voice breaking, “nanami makes me feel different! he makes me feel seen! she she only cares about herself, about her own pleasure!”
your wives freeze, then rage surges hot. one slaps her, hard, another grabs her hair, another spits in her face. their voices rise into shrieks of fury.
“our goddess gives us everything!”
“you shame her with your filth!”
they drag her down, nails clawing, hands clutching, teeth even biting. the room fills with her cries, her pleas, her sobs for mercy. but their anger is a tide, unstoppable, drowning her beneath it.
one wife holds her throat steady while another cuts. blood sprays the silks, her scream gurgles into silence, her body jerks before going limp. the wives breathe hard, faces painted with her blood, their eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of vengeance.
they work in silence after that. her head is taken carefully, hair brushed back, lips wiped clean. they place it inside the diamond-cut crystal box, arranging it like a jewel. a grotesque gift, shining with apology and devotion.
the rest of the body is left, a carcass on the floor.
geto, shiu, sukuna they appear as if summoned by blood. none of them shocked, none of them disgusted. they smirk, they laugh, they mutter among themselves as they strip the body, wrap it in cloth, and drag it away.
“a fitting fate,” geto says smoothly, wiping blood from his hands.
“traitors rot the fastest,” shiu mutters, smoke curling from his lips.
sukuna only grins, teeth sharp in the lamplight. “let her join megumi at the bottom of the lake.”
and they do. her body is tossed into the dark waters, eaten by the same silence that swallowed your chosen one.
back in the wives’ chamber, the box gleams on the table. ready. waiting for dawn.
in the morning, your goddess hands will open it. and their betrayal will be washed in blood.
the sun had barely crept through the curtains when the doors opened. your wives filed in together, faces pale but determined, robes still spotted with blood that only they knew the source of. their hands clutched the weight of the crystal box, carried like an offering, a holy relic.
and the sight that met them froze their hearts.
you were not alone in your bed.
toji lay sprawled naked beside you, scarred chest bare, his massive body stretched like a beast at rest. the silks clung damp to your thighs where his seed had dried overnight, your crown your crown tilted on his broad head as if it belonged to him now. his lips were still on yours, slow and lazy, kissing you awake like a husband instead of a dog.
their goddess their untouched goddess naked in a man’s arms.
the box was placed carefully on the edge of your bed. their voices rose in unison, a trembling prayer, an apology laced with devotion.
“forgive us, our goddess. we bring you the head of the traitor. the one who betrayed your divinity. accept her death as our loyalty, accept our lives as yours still.”
toji’s head turned, his jaw tight, his eyes narrowing. annoyance darkened his face, the muscles in his chest flexing as if he might leap from the bed and throw them out himself. his presence radiated territorial irritation how dare they barge in, how dare they kneel before you while he still had your taste on his cock. but he stayed still. he stayed quiet. his hand only tightened on your waist.
you shifted, the sheets sliding, your body aching but warm. your eyes fell to the box gleaming on the silks. you sat up slowly, the crown slipping from toji’s head back into your hands.
the wives lowered their eyes as you touched the diamond lid.
her head stared up at you, lips pale, eyes glassy, braid still intact, the skin around her neck crusted with drying blood. silence hung heavy. even toji tilted his head, curious despite his irritation.
you did not scream. you did not gasp. you smiled.
your fingers reached for the necklace at your throat, the old pendant that had once belonged to your mother, your first crown before the throne. you held it tight, clutching it to your chest, your smile soft and cruel at once.
“my girls,” you whispered, looking down at them with wet eyes. “you are my girls.”
their sobs broke into the chamber, relief and devotion flooding them, their foreheads pressed to the floor, their shoulders shaking with prayers of loyalty.
toji watched, jaw clenching, lips twisting faintly. your wives kissing the marble, your smile painted in blood, the box shining like a jewel at your feet. he said nothing but the storm in his eyes told you he hated sharing even your forgiveness.
and yet you stroked your necklace, smiling through the thick stench of death, your women trembling at your feet, your man’s cock still drying between your thighs.
the palace had never looked holier. or more corrupt.
he leaned back against the pillows, still naked, still damp with you, his lips curling into something that only pretended to be a smile. the wives were still bowing, their heads pressed into the marble at the foot of your bed, trembling with their devotion.
“look at that,” he murmured, his hand stroking your thigh as though none of them mattered, his voice rough but steady. “they proved their loyalty. killed for you. good little wives.”
his tone dripped with passive aggression, but you didn’t hear it. you only touched his jaw, your eyes soft and wet, and he leaned down to kiss you again. slow. heavy. possessive.
when he pulled back, he whispered low against your lips, “i’ll be back.”
you smiled faintly, your hands closing the diamond box and placing it away, as if it were no more than another jewel added to your collection. your heart still throbbed with pain, but you smiled anyway, clutching your necklace. “my girls,” you whispered again, and their sobs deepened.
toji rose from your bed, muscles flexing in the light, scars catching the gold. he wrapped the silk towel back around his waist, covering the cock that had just conquered you.
you stayed in bed, glowing and soft, while your wives filed out quietly, wiping tears from their faces. he followed, his shadow filling the doorway, his towel hanging loose on his hips.
and when the doors closed behind you, his face changed.
the softness fell away. his smile twisted into a snarl. he stopped in the corridor, towering over the wives who had just offered blood to prove their devotion. his eyes were sharp, his voice a growl.
“don’t think i don’t see through you,” he said, stepping closer, making them shrink back though they tried not to show fear. “you killed one of your own, just to crawl closer to her. you think that makes you loyal? it makes you desperate.”
one wife lifted her chin, her voice trembling but sharp. “better desperate than filthy. better a killer than a man. we don’t mind sending you to join your son at the bottom of the lake.”
his eyes narrowed, and his grin split wider, dangerous. “then don’t mind me turning your goddess back behind you. back to me. back to my bed, my cock, my seed. you’ll stay where you belong kneeling at her feet, licking her cunt when she lets you. servants. nothing else.”
the air crackled. their eyes burned into his, spitting hatred, but their bodies shook. they couldn’t deny what they’d seen. they couldn’t deny the crown slipping onto his head as he kissed her.
he leaned down, close enough for them to smell his sweat and silk, voice low and venomous.
“try me. one step out of line, one whisper against me and i’ll remind you again whose cock she chose first. i’ll remind her every night until you’re nothing but toys at the edge of her bed.”
his towel brushed against their skirts as he passed, tall and manly and dangerous, leaving them frozen in the corridor, teeth clenched, nails digging into their palms.
the goddess smiled upstairs, clutching her necklace.
and below, her palace sharpened its knives.
the hours dragged without him. the palace felt strangely quiet in his absence, as if the walls themselves noticed the missing weight of his shadow. your wives filled the silence with laughter and fabrics, trailing silks across your skin as you stood before the tall mirror in your chamber.
“this one, goddess,” one cooed, smoothing the red gown over your hips.
“no, the coral,” another corrected, tugging the hem against your thighs.
the youngest giggled, pressing the white dress to your chest. “skimpy, but it shows your beauty the best.”
you twirled for them, giggling, the silk rustling around your body as you modeled each one, your bare feet padding over the cool floor. they circled you, pouting when you shook your head, tugging at hems, smoothing their hands over your curves.
“we miss worshipping you,” one whispered against your ear, her lips brushing your shoulder. “why do you keep us waiting?”
you sighed with a playful smile, tilting your head. “i know… but later.”
they pouted, cheeks puffed, eyes wide. you giggled again, soft and indulgent, and finally relented, sinking onto the bed as they followed like kittens. they crowded around, lips brushing your thighs, your stomach, your breasts through the sheer orange silk you finally chose. their mouths opened, wet and eager, ready to worship again the doors opened.
he filled the frame before any voice announced him.
toji. bare-chested still, fresh from the hunt, scars dark under the golden light. behind him, male servants carried trays piled high with meats, fruits, vegetables the best the land could give. the scent filled the room, rich and overwhelming.
your wives froze on the bed, lips inches from your skin. their eyes darted up to him. his glare burned through them like a blade.
his jaw flexed. his eyes narrowed. his body went taut with fury, as if he’d tear them away from you with his bare hands.
they glared back, protective, territorial, daring him to speak, to try and chase them from their goddess. the room crackled with hatred.
then he jerked his chin toward the door.
the servants hesitated, glancing between the spread of food and your body on the bed. his glare sharpened, and with one dismissive tilt of his jaw, they scrambled out, trays left behind.
your wives followed reluctantly, muttering their prayers as they bowed and left, the last one glancing back with fire in her eyes. the door shut.
then his grin. slow. lazy. sharp.
he strode to the table, his huge hands arranging the trays, placing the best cuts of meat, the ripest fruits, the softest bread within your reach. he turned back to you, his gaze sliding over the thin orange silk stretched across your tits, the hem barely covering the swell of your ass. the fabric was sheer enough that the curve of your nipples showed, the outline of your cunt visible when you shifted your thighs.
his cock stirred under the towel knotted low around his waist.
“you look hungry,” he said, voice low, almost amused. “your little wives never feed you right. they lick you, they play, but they never fill you.”
you giggled, cheeks warm, eyes sparkling as you sat back on the bed, legs crossed, hands folded prettily in your lap. “and you will?”
he chuckled, deep and rough, the sound vibrating in his chest. he crossed the room, sat beside you, his massive body sinking the mattress. his hand caught yours, lifting it to his lips, kissing it with a mockery of courtly grace.
“i’ll fill you,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin, his other hand sliding to your cheek. he kissed there too, soft and warm, though his eyes glinted sharp. “with food. with my seed. with anything you want.”
you laughed, the sound bubbling out of you, soft and girlish, and it made his grin widen, made his cock twitch against the towel.
he pulled you into his lap with one swift motion, your giggles muffled against his chest, your silk gown riding up your thighs. he laughed with you, low and rough, shaking his head.
“adorable,” he growled into your hair. “my goddess… my little empress… you don’t even know how fucking adorable you are.”
his lips brushed your temple as his hand slid down your back, holding you tighter against his chest, his cock already pressing hard against your thigh beneath the silk.
his hands are too big for the delicate dishes. the fruits look small in his scarred fingers, the roasted meat fragile as he tears it apart with ease. he feeds you piece by piece, not with forks or plates, but with his own hand, pressing figs to your lips, slipping ripe grapes between your teeth, pushing cuts of tender meat onto your tongue.
you chew and swallow obediently, your belly warming, your lips shining with juice. he never lets you reach for anything yourself. every bite is his offering, his command.
“that’s it,” he murmurs, his chest pressed against your back as you sit in his lap. “eat, goddess. eat until you’re full. you’re too soft, too delicate. i want you fed. i want you heavy.”
his free hand strokes your waist, rubbing the curve of your stomach as it grows rounder with food, massaging lazily like he’s already imagining it swollen with his child. when you moan softly from the weight in your belly, he only chuckles, kissing your cheek.
“beautiful,” he whispers, fingers sliding higher to cup your breast through the thin orange silk, rolling the nipple between his calloused fingers. “bloated and fed and mine.”
his towel has slipped again. his cock slides free, thick and veined, hard from watching you eat at his command. he doesn’t thrust it in, not yet. he presses it between your thighs, rutting lazily, coating the insides of your legs with heat and slick.
you whimper softly, shifting in his lap, the crown of his cock dragging against your cunt through the sheer silk. he groans low in your ear, his hand gripping your thigh, spreading you wider so he can grind harder.
you tilt your head back against his shoulder, your voice breaking into a giggle. “you spent all day for this? hunting and gathering just to feed me?”
he laughs, low and rough, his lips brushing your ear. “what i do for you isn’t a chore. you’re my goddess. feeding you is a privilege.”
you blush, giggling again, reaching toward the tray to pluck a grape. you turn in his lap, pressing it to his lips with your small hand.
he lets you feed him. his mouth closes over your fingers, his tongue brushing your skin as he bites down on the grape, chewing slow, savoring it. he swallows, then laughs deep in his chest, pulling you tighter against him, his cock grinding harder between your thighs.
“sweet,” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. “but not as sweet as you.”
he presses another kiss, deeper this time, his hand sliding up to your throat, tilting your head back as his cock pulses against your cunt.
your belly is full, warm, round beneath his palm. you can feel the weight of every grape, every slice of meat he pressed into your mouth, every morsel chewed while his eyes stayed glued to you. and now his cock, thick and hot, slides up into you, stretching you again, deeper than food could ever fill.
he starts slow. lazy thrusts, rolling his hips, dragging the thick head of his cock over every trembling inch inside you. his hand strokes your thigh, pushing it open wider, his chest pressed heavy against your back.
“that’s it,” he murmurs, kissing your neck, the words rumbling into your skin. “so wet for me already. pussy puffy and dripping… feels like you were waiting for me.”
you moan, low and broken, head tipping back against his shoulder. he pulls a grape from the tray, pressing it to your lips even as his cock grinds deeper. you whimper, but he doesn’t let you refuse his fingers push it past your lips, his other hand pinching your breast until you chew.
“good girl,” he mutters, watching your throat work as you swallow. “eat for me. fuck for me.”
his pace grows heavier. the slow grind turns into deep thrusts, the mattress shaking beneath you, your belly bouncing from the force. juice drips down your chin from another grape he shoves into your mouth, mixing with your moans.
his free hand frees one of your tits, tugging the silk down until it spills into his palm. he squeezes, rolls the nipple between his rough fingers, groaning against your neck.
“so pretty,” he growls, biting your shoulder. “pretty little slut, stuffed with my cock and food, moaning in my lap.”
the word hits you, your moans stutter, your brows knitting as you pout. you whimper through a mouthful of fruit, chewing slow, turning your head to him. “t-toji… don’t call me that. it’s… it’s disrespectful.”
he laughs. a deep, warm, infuriating sound. his hips slam harder, cock punching into you until you gasp, eyes rolling.
“no,” he says easily, his grin pressed against your damp cheek. “not a bad word. it’s how a man calls his woman when she’s beautiful. when she’s dripping. when she’s perfect.”
he gaslights you sweetly, his tone almost soft, as if you were the one being silly. “don’t pout, goddess. slut just means mine. pretty and mine.”
his cock pounds heavier now, your wetness splattering down his thighs, your cunt clenching around him with every brutal push. he feeds you another grape as you moan, the juice spilling down your chin, his hand smearing it over your lips before kissing you messy, groaning into your mouth.
“my pretty slut,” he whispers, slow and dominant, fucking you harder with each word. “my goddess. my queen. mine.”
his pace shifts. the lazy grind that had you sighing melts into sharp, hungry thrusts, his hips snapping hard, his cock slamming so deep your stomach jolts with every push. the bed creaks, the trays rattle on the table, your cries echo against the tall walls.
“yeah,” he groans, voice dark, hand fisting your hair to yank your head back against his shoulder. “that’s it. take it. take it all, goddess.”
he reaches for another grape, shoving it between your lips while he ruts into you. you moan around it, choking on juice, your body convulsing as his cock stretches you brutally. your belly, already bloated from food, trembles with the force of every thrust.
“look at you,” he growls, biting your ear, “stuffed with meat, fruit, my cock so spoiled, and you still pout when i call you what you are.”
his hand slaps your tit, squeezing it rough, his thumb pinching your nipple until you squeal. his laugh rumbles against your back, cruel and amused.
“spoiled little slut,” he spits, hips crashing into yours faster, harder, the sound of your wet pussy squelching loud enough to drown your cries. “cry about disrespect all you want your cunt tells the truth. squeezing me, begging me, soaking me.”
tears spill down your cheeks, your voice cracking into sobs of pleasure as he pistons into you, cock thick and brutal, dragging across every raw inch of your pussy.
“please what?” he snarls, snapping his hips faster, shoving another grape past your lips before you can finish. “please don’t fuck you so deep? don’t make your pussy puffy and swollen on my cock? too late, goddess. i’m already inside.”
his hand slides down to your waist, gripping the soft curve tight, pulling you back into every thrust until his balls slap wet against you. he growls low, sweaty chest pressed to your back.
“you’re mine. my woman. my slut. no man, no wife, no servant feeds you, fucks you, fills you like this.”
you sob, moaning into his rough palm as he covers your mouth, muffling your cries while he jackhammers your cunt. your thighs tremble, your pussy gushes wet down his cock, juice from fruit and cum soaking into the silks beneath you.
“gonna cum inside again,” he growls into your ear, pounding you harder, faster, until the whole bed shakes. “gonna pump you full till you’re leaking down your legs. let every bitch in this palace see you waddle with my seed dripping out.”
you break, convulsing on his cock, tears streaking your cheeks, your voice muffled in his palm as your orgasm rips through you.
he snarls, fucking you through it, until he buries himself to the hilt and groans loud, spilling hot cum deep into your womb. he grinds hard, making sure it stuffs inside, his hand clutching your tit as if to brand you.
then he laughs, breathless and cruel, kissing the wet tears on your cheek.
“see?” he whispers, still throbbing inside you. “not disrespect. just the way a man calls his woman when she’s this pretty, this ruined, this mine.”
