I'm sorry I couldn't help it đ This event was made for me to request something with him, seriously all three options are so good xvsjbdak
THIS IS THE BEST USE OF THE MEME! (Also, it made me wonder who Bernieâs favorite character would be...? đ¤)𤣠And thank you, it really suits him! I think itâs the possible trauma he might inflict on the reader that does it for him! đ
Sougo đ
Fuck
Sougoâs fingers linger on the bruise on your hip made by the paddle he had used, marveling at his handiwork as you whimper at his touch. He clicks his tongue, quietly and wordlessly reprimanding you, he always found that to be more effective than verbally scolding you. Your reaction paid off -- every time. The sounds were suppressed by the gag in your mouth, but he could still hear it. That earned you a hard slap to your inner thigh followed by another quick slap, but you were too fucked out of your mind for the pain to truly register, all you knew was that Sougo had not been pleased by your noises and he was letting you know.
He didnât need to use words, you just knew what he wanted from you, he used your body to tell you how we wanted things, how he wanted you to react, or if he wanted little to no reaction from you. Though, as you were now, he was surprised that you hadnât blacked out. Not that he was trying to get you to blackout, but on rare occasions, he would forget himself and be too immersed in his own pleasure and forget about you. He always made it up to you in his own way if heâd taken things too far; heâd be more attentive to your bruises or if you ached somewhere, heâd make sure to not put pressure on that specific place. Sougo isnât out to traumatize or injure you, heâs just playing! Wanting both of you to have fun and be pleased! No one could toy or tease you like he did, and even if he denied you your release and you yearned for him, you never demanded or asked that heâd finish what he started. As well as he knew you, you knew him just as well -- Sougo wasnât sure if he liked it or not, though he found himself leaning more towards the former than the latter.
Today, though, youâd been good and only slightly disobedient, but not so much that he felt like punishing you further. He wanted to reward you, even as overstimulated and tired as you were you still waited for his next move patiently, he finally gave in, kissing you on the lips as his hands slid up and down your sides before resting them on your hips. Giving the supple skin a quick squeeze as he rubbed the head of his cock against your swollen and abused clit -- easing himself inside your wet folds while slipping his tongue between your lips. His strokes were languid and lazy, as was his kissing. Heâd been waiting and waiting, and he didnât want it all to be over too soon, so he took it all as slow as his body would allow him to.
Sougo is a patient guy, he could stand to hold on before he spent himself for some time as long as you didnât roll your hips in the way that had him moan like some fool in love (which he most definitely was, but heâd never admit it). A few soft ahâs escaped those sweet lips of his, but that was fine especially since you reacted by letting a few moans out yourself as he lazily pulled out to the tip and slowly slid back in the warmth of your core. He could tell you wanted to move, to buck your hips against his and keep meeting his hips until you had your release. He could tell by the soft whimpers, your trembling thighs, and how you pulled at the restraints around your wrists -- the fabric digging into your already reddened skin. Surely, if you kept it up your skin would break and that would be no fun.
He continuous his arduous pace, reveling in the feeling of his oncoming orgasm as your walls clench around him and pull him further in, the heat engulfing and taking him over. Without warning or indication, he snaps his hips mercilessly and begins thrusting into you roughly, not relenting even though you begin to cry out -- though if itâs in pain or pleasure neither of you knows, though it certainly eggs him on. He grabs your tit, shifting between pinching and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger in perfect rhythm with his thrusting. Each time he sunk back in your folds heâd pinch you until he pulled back. Each time heâd do it, your walls getting tighter and tighter until it became almost unbearable.
âAaw, whatâs this? Are you coming again? Without my permission?â his voice is silky smooth, bordering on dangerous, but there was also a certain levity to it, as well. âAh, what am I going to do with you, huh? Itâs like you donât want to feel good, to have this filthy hole filled to the brim, hm?â He yanks at your blindfold, allowing you to finally see him. He could cum just by looking at the way you gaze at him with hazy and lust-filled eyes, your mouth opening and closing as whimpers disguised as his name falls out between your sore lips from the blowjobs he had you do earlier. Youâre so beautiful like this... close to breaking and begging for him to finish -- he wants you to beg, he always wants you to beg for him to fuck you raw until the coil in your belly snaps and your slick covers his cock entirely, as finishes how he himself pleases -- whether itâs inside of you, on your tits, your face, the stomach or thighs are boring, so he rarely spends himself purposely there. No, he wants to paint your face tonight, as a reward for your good behavior.
You say yes to his question, yes -- of course, you want him to fill you up with his hot semen, of course! You sound almost panicked at the thought of him not believing you. Why wouldnât he believe you? Your voice is thin, tired from the use of your throat, but he detects no lie as you beg, finally beg, for him to release everything heâs got, and for a moment he contemplates on giving you what you want. Why shouldnât he be a little merciful?
He stops moving, having moved his hand to your bindings and freeing your hands. At first, you look up at him, unsure what to do next, but as he lets himself down so his chest is flush against yours as he moves at the same languid pace as before, though this is more intimate. Itâs what you want, right?
A wordless question you answer by wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him close, and burying your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him so tightly it makes his movements a little awkward, but he allows it. You start to meet his strokes by rolling your hips, forcing him to let out a deep moan he canât hold back. You really do test him sometimes... but he likes it because you never overstep or think youâre in control, youâre his plaything, a puppet he fucks when he wants to, and as a puppet who are you to tell him no?
Sougo uses his shoulder to nudge you, âLook at me,â he orders, and you do as he says, still with that same hazy look in your eyes. Youâre almost done, he can see it plainly, but he canât help himself -- you really look your best like this; tired out of your mind, youâre not able to create any coherent words, only mumbling incoherent sentences thatâs similar to his name, but not quite. He pushes your legs back by your knees, using the new position to his advantage, and sits up, his strokes a bit more forceful, his own release impending and he doesnât want to delay it much longer. Heâs been holding back for a while, and sure, he does get pleasure from stimulating and toying with you, but itâs not the same. He needs to get his release, too, and he finds it as he pulls out, tells you to look him straight in the eye as he shoots his cum over your face. He lets out a breathy chuckle, he didnât even have to tell you to stick your tongue, God, you are filthy... But youâre also his.
âHowâre your wrists? Do they still hurt?â he asks after youâve both cleaned yourselves up. Well, actually, he cleaned himself up and you as you had no energy to spare. He teased you, calling you filthy and gross, not wanting someone like that in his bed, but he didnât kick you out. You nod tiredly, letting out a heavy and slightly shaky breath. âThereâs some aloe next to you on the nightstand, you should apply some before you fall asleep.â âOkay, thank you,â you mumble, not moving an inch. He rolls his eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh, as he rolled over to your side, opening the nightstand drawer without leaning too heavily against you and fishing the bottle of aloe vera out. âGimme your wrists,â he says it a little harsher than intended, but you do as he says, a smile forming on your lips. âAnd donât smile like that, itâs ugly to manipulate people to do things you want. Iâd never do something like that, you know.â
Sougo doesnât like to admit it, he doesnât want to know he relies on you as much as you rely on him. He doesnât need the tight feeling in his chest as he watches you walk away from him or see you smile at someone else, regardless of who it is. He doesnât want to think about how these moments -- when heâs doing something considerate or âkindâ, as youâd call it -- are so precious to him. The sweet hum you always make when he makes up for the things heâs done to your body. And he definitely doesnât want to think about how dumb he looks when he smiles at you like youâre the most gorgeous treasure in the world, absolutely not.
please i love this