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devotion | true form!r.s

s: servants lie, you recoil from the king of curses. sukuna doesn’t let this slide, and he reminds you who you belong to, and what happens to measly peasants who dare try to ruin you.

tw: MDNI, smut ensues | f!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader and envisioned with female anatomy | post shibuya but au bc this is true form sukuna, depictions of sadism, master/slave dynamics, potential stockholm syndrome, unhealthy relationship dynamics, violence and torture, minor character deaths, uraume is kinda sweet, oral m&f receiving, overstim, sukuna's belly mouth is used, sukuna has two dicks, rough handling, deepthroating, comments on cannibalism, hints at dehumanization depending how you look at it?? i think that's it!

a/n; i have nothing to say other than yeah. i had this idea for a while but true form sukuna making his debut riled me up enough to finish this. idk i haven't read a lot of sukuna fics but most of what i have read makes him out to be a sweetheart and im so sorry i just cannot see that so in my version, he's a little bit evil. nothing too crazy. i hope this is enjoyable it is my first 'full fic' ! || wc: 13.1k

ty if you decide to read ! not beta read bc i had no one to ask :p

Sukuna noticed you were acting strange.

His four eyes noticed everything. Every tiny change in your demeanor, whether you did your best to disguise it or not.

You avoided his touch, avoided being too intimate, and asked for privacy during showers and baths. Sukuna assumed you had not been feeling very well, or perhaps that you had just wanted alone time, but it was getting strange. Too strange. So, being the king he was, Sukuna made his way to confronting you. Not that he truly cared if you were wanting space, he didn’t want you to think you could get away with doing whatever you wanted.

You were his, and he decided what was best.

Your voice sounded, soft as rain, coming from the kitchen, directing him to change his path down the narrow hallway. He approached the arch that led into the kitchen and paused when heard some servants who were supposed to be preparing dinner, speaking to you. A highly unusual thing, his servants were not to speak to you unless he had directed, they were ignorant to his presence as you were.

"Lord Sukuna has been quite vocal about his disappointment lately," one servant said, her voice dripping with false concern. "He mentioned just yesterday how tiresome it's become, having to constantly tend to such a needy thing like yourself, little blossom."

Another servant snickered quietly, but the harsh sound was hidden behind a deceptive smile. "I heard him say that the branding was a mistake. That they make you look even more pathetic than before. Like you’re trying too hard to be interesting. Or that you’re desperate for his approval."

Your voice came out small and wounded, unexpected from what you were hearing. "H-he said that...?"

"Oh yes," The first servant continued with a hand on her chest, like a concerned parent might be. "He told us he's grown bored of the whole arrangement. Apparently, he said you lack the grace and dignity expected of someone in your position. Your posture, your tone of voice, your body. None of it inhibits a true slave sitting beside him."

"I also heard," Another chimed in, circling behind you like a vulture. "That he said keeping you around is more of a chore than a pleasure these days. That he only tolerates you out of pity, really."

There was a long pause, and when you spoke again, your voice was barely audible, trembling with hurt. "I...I didn't know he felt that way...but pity? That hardly sounds like him…"

"Well, you’re still new and we’ve known him much longer than you," The servant waved her hand dismissively. "Perhaps you should give Lord Sukuna some space. Stop being so...suffocating. He lets out all of his frustration on the rest of us." She quipped at the end, turning back to the countertop to cut up more food.

From his hidden position, Sukuna's eyes narrowed. These servants dared to speak for him? To fill his pet's head with lies? His hands curled into fists, more pissed off by the fact they thought they could speak for him rather than how it made you feel. But he remained still, wanting to hear how far this would go and what you would do.

“You really heard him saying all that…” You asked softly, looking at the servant who had started the conversation for one last clarification.

The servant nodded with false sympathy, though you failed to register it at that moment. "Every word, I'm afraid. He was explicit about his feelings. We thought you should know the truth rather than continue embarrassing yourself."

At the confirmation, your shoulders slumped, your eyes glistening with unshed tears as you processed the words. The hurt was written plainly across your face, and you wrapped your arms around your body protectively, as if trying to hold the pieces of yourself together. One last weak nod was given, then you walked back towards your shared bed chamber.

Now, Sukuna was never that easy to get along with, but he always spoke to your face. Even if the words he spoke hurt. They often did, he wasn’t a coddler and he didn’t give a shit about how you felt when he spoke to you. The way he saw it, he hadn’t killed you, he let you within his private chambers, let you sleep beside him. That, in his mind, was enough to show how he viewed you.

The reveal of his servants telling you these lies came a week ago. He had been biding himself ever since. Stewing, letting the anger build. He was curious…to see what you’d do. How you’d handle what you thought was the truth.

He didn’t expect you to recoil so severely from him. And it pissed him off more than the servants did.

“Enough of this, what is the meaning of this behavior?” He demanded sharply, pulling you away from the wooden puzzle you had been occupying your mind with. He pulled you inside his bed chamber from the balcony, the same one he ordered to be built because you had cried one night about missing the rain. The smell of it. The feel of it. An odd, mortal worry that made him roll all four of his eyes but…the next day there it was. A balcony extended from his chamber, overlooking your favorite pond, sat just beneath a large blossom tree growing against the palace. He allowed you to sit out on it whenever you wanted, you had grown so frustrated being kept to his room alone.

“Speak!” He ordered again, yanking on your arm as an extension of his frustration.

You froze at his touch, shoulders stiffening under his grip. The puzzle piece in your hand slipped from your fingers and clattered onto the wood floor. “I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, your lashes fluttered and felt wet at that moment. It was ironic, it wasn’t raining outside. You tried to think how you could shape the words into something that would not get you hurt, he hadn’t hesitated to lay a hand on you before, but it had been a long time since he had. You didn’t doubt that he may smack you again, as pissed off as he was right now.

Sukuna’s hand snapped to your chin, forcing your face up. “You’ve been flinching from me for days,” he growled. “You stop speaking when I enter a room, you bow your head like you are any other servant in my palace, you lock yourself away like a coward.” He nearly spat down at you, his sharp teeth baring through his sneer.

You trembled under the wrongness of being held like this when you had been trying so hard to be small. “I just needed space,” you tried, but your attempt died with a quick huff that left his throat.

“Space,” he repeated, tasting the word like something rotten. “Is that what you call it? Evading me like I carry the plague.”

Your mind flashed to the kitchen, to the way the servants' voices sounded. So sure. So practiced. To the humiliation that had flooded you when you realized they could say those things about you and still smile, still come to work the following day as if nothing had ever been said. Their words had been like a serrated engine running rampant inside you, tearing you apart from the inside.

“Do you want to be truthful now?” Sukuna’s voice cut through you, sharp and impatient. “Or will you keep protecting those little insects from my hand?” He forced your chin up again until you had no choice but to meet him, his palm nearly swallowing half your face as he moved to grasp your jaw more head on. The pressure wasn’t painful, but it was humiliating in a way that made your stomach twist, like being held still for inspection. His gaze didn’t waver, carmine eyes pinned you in place, scorching, searching.

“I am not a fool,” he continued, each word bitten off like a threat. “I have ears everywhere. Everything that happens within these walls finds its way back to me.” His thumb shifted, a slow, possessive drag along your cheekbone. “So here it is. Your one chance to tell me what this is before I decide to take action.”

Your throat tightened around a swallow that refused to go down. The lump in it felt absurd, as if your own body were trying to block the truth from escaping while heat crawled up your neck. You hated the way you were trembling, hated that he could feel it through his grip.

You didn’t like being cornered.

For days, you had told yourself the feeling would pass if you waited long enough, if you stayed small enough. Sukuna didn’t do anything soft. Sukuna didn’t do talking things out. He never seemed concerned with emotional problems unless they inconvenienced him. And yet here he was, demanding an answer out of you like you had been caught stealing from his shrine.

A cruel part of you wondered if this was a test, the kind he liked best: the sort that left you guessing until you failed. Maybe he wanted you to confess to something you hadn’t even done. Maybe he wanted you to beg, to insist he punish someone for inconvenience, to make you complicit in the violence so you couldn’t pretend you were innocent later on.

His intentions were always a maze, his moods turned on invisible hinges, and standing there with his hand on your face, you could not tell if he was trying to protect what belonged to him…or if he was reminding you exactly what you were.

“I spoke to some of the servants recently,” you managed, the words scraping out of a throat that had gone too tight. “At first I only overheard them. I thought they would stop the moment they noticed me.” A shaky breath slipped between your teeth. “But they didn’t. They looked right at me and kept going, like it was me they’d been waiting for.” Your eyes dropped to the floor before you could stop them, lashes blinking too fast. It felt childish to be standing here with your pulse in your ears, trying not to sound like someone begging for reassurance. “They…said things about you. About what you think of me.” You hated how small your voice became on the last part, like you were confessing to a crime. Your fingers curled into the fabric at your side, twisting it until it bit into your palm. “They said you were disinterested and tired of me.”

You finally forced a swallow and it didn’t help.

“They told me you regretted the brand.” The word brand landed heavy, a weight you could feel under your skin even though the mark itself was hidden. “That it was a mistake. That it makes me look pathetic.” Your breath hitched, humiliation burning hotter than the fear. “It was a lot to hear all at once, and it didn’t sound like you, but…”

But you had no proof it wasn’t.

You forced yourself to lift your head, even though it felt like walking into the edge of a blade. “You never tell me how you feel,” you emphasized, honesty slipping out before you could soften it. “Not about me. Not about anything. So I didn’t know what to do with it. I just…assumed the worst.” The admission tasted bitter. It was so embarrassing, saying it to his face. Embarrassing that it mattered, that the thought of him looking at you with boredom could make your ribs ache like something inside you was trying to claw its way out.

And Sukuna wasn’t stupid.

Every servant in his palace wanted to be where you stood. They watched you like you were a jewel left on an altar, waiting for the moment someone forgot to lock the doors. He enjoyed having concubines and being worshipped, but he had taken you after the destruction in Shibuya, he had quickly regained his form after that. Since then, he had not reached for another. Not bowed at his side. Not kneeling at his feet. However anyone wanted to frame it.

Point being…he was satisfied. You just didn’t know it.

Servants, on the other hand, were full of greed and mortal longing. They wanted riches, status, privileges they hadn’t been born into and still believed they were owed. They cared little for anything beyond what they could collect and display. Fruits and silks and jewelry woven with jade. A new title, a better room, the right to speak as if their word carried the same weight as Sukuna’s own. Those kinds of people irritated him more than anything, and the palace was crowded with them.

But you…you had never been like that.

You didn’t grow gluttonous over the amount of rarities you could gather, or the quality of tea poured for you. You cried about missing the smell and sound of rain. You mourned a soft breeze like it was a luxury. You turned your head away from offerings that the others would have clawed each other apart for, as if they were nothing but noise. You were the only one in the entire palace who seemed more interested in the koi swimming through the ponds than in winning favor to climb the hierarchy. That strange, quiet lack of hunger, your refusal to reach for what everyone else would kill to hold. That was what had drawn him to you in the first place. For your mind to be waved so much from a few measly comments by the servants infuriated him.

Sukuna was quiet, processing everything you had said.

Then, he fucking laughed.

It was low, sharp, and without warmth, the sound of a blade being drawn just to remind someone it was there. “Those little parasites,” he said, voice dark with amusement that didn’t reach his eyes. His thumb pressed harder at your cheekbone, tilting your face as if he meant to inspect the damage their words had done. “They used my name like it was their own.” His fingers tightened, not quite painful, but possessive. “And you believed them Or your naive little head feared they were right,” Sukuna murmured, “If I were bored of you, you would not be standing here in my chamber.” Sukuna’s hand slid from your chin to the side of your neck, thumb resting over your quick pulse like he could feel the proof of you there. “You want to know what I think of you?” he asked, and the question sounded like a threat because it was.

Your lips parted. “Sukuna-”

“Do not interrupt,” he snapped, watching your face, the tremble in your lashes, the way you tried to make yourself smaller at his command.

“I don’t speak like mortals do,” he said, almost bored again, almost cruel. “I don’t offer pretty words to make you stop shaking, but you will not doubt me because of insects.” A beat stretched between the two of you, then he adjusted his hold on your jaw, another hand coming up to swipe your skin. The way you looked up at him after that, with what he saw as need, made him grumble back. “Don’t be greedy now…I will not repeat myself. You are more to me than what you believe yourself to be…just remember that.” He chuffed under his breath, “I would never allow such luxurious treatment for a true slave of mine.”

Sukuna slid down your body with his lower arms, decisive and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. His hands hooked behind your knees and lifted you effortlessly, rearranging you like a king moving a piece on a board. Instinct made you cling to his shoulders, fingers tightening against the architecture of his muscles for support. “What are you doing-” you started, but the words came out thin, fraying at the edges as his presence dominated the room like an oni that had come to drag you to hell.

Your back met the bed in a controlled drop that still knocked the air from your lungs. He hovered above you, a shadow with too many eyes, too many teeth; the space between you felt suddenly too small to breathe in. “Ensuring you understand your place,” he rumbled, voice low and absolute. He pressed your knees wider, claiming the distance like it belonged to him while he prowled over top of you. His expression was dark with intent, he would burn this lesson into your memory without ever needing to raise his voice. “You will remember who truly owns you. And it is not those lying servants.”

His head moved down, hot breath against your core. The thin fabric of your panties did little to protect you against him. He could smell you, see the imprint against the fabric. The claws at his fingertips shred them off you, revealing your bare pussy to his hungry eyes. Your voice was lost as his tongue slid up from your entrance to your clit, flicking over it once before he dove in harder to lap more vigorously. His hands splayed over the meat of your thighs and hips, one pair snaking up and grabbing at your breasts with eagerness.

“S-Suku…nna….oh god…” Your initial shock faded into pleasure, though you were still caught off guard and in disbelief. Sukuna had never given prior to this.

He always demanded and took, never once had he tasted you this way, never had he lowered and bowed his head to you like this.

His tongue worked you expertly for someone who didn’t give often, each lick and lap found the bundle of precious nerves and toyed with it. Your muffled cries grew louder despite your attempts to quiet yourself, one of your free hands fisting in the sheets at your side as pleasure shot through you in waves you had never experienced before. This was a declaration, ownership that left no room for the poisonous doubts those servants had planted.

He did not penetrate you, he did not try to stretch you out this time. He simply used his mouth, and only his mouth, against your swollen core. His tongue licking over your throbbing little pearl, polishing it and nursing it as you soaked the sheets and his chin with your syrupy arousal. He enveloped you completely, every single twist and tug his tongue made was intoxicating and you found yourself growing a little irritated that he held out for so long. “Why…nngh…why did you…hold out? Ah…feels s’good, s’good, please, please…”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body and to your belly. Fuck, the deep vibration, the tone of him, everything. It was driving you mad.

Your back arched on instinct, chasing the sensation before you could even think to be ashamed by it. It was overwhelming in a way you couldn’t define, like heat threaded straight through your bones and lit every nerve it touched. Your clit was the source, that damned thing was on fire.

Your breath hitched, then broke apart entirely between what gasps you could intake. Your hand drifted down without permission from your mind, fingers trembling as they found his hair. You gripped it, shyly at first, not to pull so much as to anchor yourself. Part of you worried he would snap at the touch, would make you regret reaching for him like this, but he didn’t. If anything, he seemed to take it as confirmation and doubled down his efforts.

And holy shit. Sukuna knew exactly what he was doing.

The room narrowed to nothing but the rhythm he set and the way your body responded to it. Your thoughts dissolved into flashes of sound and breath, the soft scrape of sheets, the pulse in your ears. The sloppy sound of his mouth and tongue flicking and slurping at your pussy.

You heard yourself making noises you didn’t recognize, half-plea and half-prayer, and you couldn’t bring yourself to swallow them down.

Your hips moved on their own, desperate and uncoordinated, chasing relief like it was the only language you had left. He was very pleased with the clumsiness of your movements, loving the fact he could make you this way just from his tongue. Sukuna’s hands stayed firm at your sides, not restraining you like he normally would, just holding you in place when you started to lose yourself. No more bucking.

And as you laid there feeling this electricity, you wanted it to last. You wanted to stay suspended there until you could breathe again, until the trembling in your limbs stopped feeling like it might split you apart. But your body betrayed you, cresting too quickly under the intensity.

When your orgasm finally hit, it stole your voice clean away. You went rigid for a heartbeat, then fell apart, shaking through it as if the aftershocks had to find somewhere to land. Your mewls and moans were loud and desperate, messy begging for him not to stop, quick and harsh ‘right there’ and ‘fucks’ sailed through your parted lips.

Your hands gripped his hair now, blabbering helplessly as your cunt oozed and clenched around nothing. “Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop-” Rapid and nearly unintelligible, your voice was utterly pathetic. Whines and mewls and stupidly high pitched cries left your lips in sobs. Your hips tried to roll and buck against his face, he held you firmly at first but he eventually let go, allowing you to rub yourself all over his mouth and nose like a horny bitch in heat. He looked lazy, basically just letting you grind into his face at the peak of your climax, watching you chase the sensation of ecstasy.

When your body gave out and the muscles released their hold, you could barely process what had happened. But the high of your orgasm faded faster than you liked. You felt his mouth retreat, a wet smack and strings of gossamer saliva and cum kept his lips connected to your core. He was panting like he had just feasted upon a corpse, tongue coming out to lick over his teeth and lips in an exaggerated flick. Hot tears slipped out before you could stop them, you turned your head to the side as you felt mortified with the sudden emotional hit.

Sukuna moved back over you with the same predatory grace, like a tiger returning to its kill, arms caging a fallen fawn below him. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, and the look in his eyes made your stomach tighten all over again. His thumb pried your mouth open as he let the evidence of your orgasm drool down into your mouth. “Swallow,” he ordered calmly, a tone he did not use often.

You wanted to retort something smart, but that action was not expected at all from him. Your face burned as you indulged him and obeyed, throat working around the command while his thumb pressed lightly at your jaw, tilting your head back so he could watch your throat bob. Only then did he lean close enough for his breath to brush your mouth, his voice dropping into something quieter.

“Good pet,” he purred like a lazy feline, “You did so well for me.” You were flipped within a second, his back now laying against the bed and your chest pressing into his large body. He could feel you slowly recovering from the intense orgasm, your thighs continued their occasional tremor. He was sitting up too much and you felt too exhausted to maintain the position, so you slid down his body to lay down more. He peeked his eyes open to watch you, one of his split brows arching slightly when you pulled the blanket over you.

"You’re warm," you mumbled from beneath the blankets, your voice muffled but unmistakably pleased as you nuzzled closer, cheek pressing into the firm plane of his abdomen. "And…safe." The word left you on a sigh, like admitting it might make it vanish. Sukuna’s lower arm tightened around your waist in answer, heavy and possessive, drawing you back as if he could keep you there by sheer will.

"Safe," he repeated, tasting the idea with mild disdain at the ridiculousness of the phrase, but he didn’t let go. “You are high from your culmination…”

Something stirred.

The seam of skin against his abdomen parted with a slow, lazy stretch, as if it were waking from sleep. A slick tongue slid out and licked your cheek, one long, deliberate swipe that left a trail of warm wetness against your skin. You jerked back with a startled squeak as heat rushed to your face. You blinked wide-eyed from under the blanket, then looked at him, "Sukuna!" you hissed, equal parts scandalized and amused, wiping at your cheek with the edge of the blanket.

“Mm?” Sukuna’s voice rumbled above you, far too calm for someone with an extra mouth that drew joy in misbehaving. “What is it now?”

"It tickles," you protested, and the way your laugh slipped out betrayed you. His belly mouth, something you had never really interacted with before.

Your hands lifted cautiously, then settled against his stomach, palms splayed over the strange, living warmth beneath. The intimacy of it made your pulse hop, because it felt absurdly domestic to touch him like this, like he was something you were allowed to hold. The tongue darted out again, licking the side of your palm with shameless curiosity.

You made a noise, a gasp and soft laugh, and drew your hand back only to put it there again, as if testing whether you were really being indulged. "It’s rude," you said, trying to sound stern and failing immediately.

Sukuna chuckled, low and dark, the sound vibrating through his chest and down into your hands. "You are easily entertained," he hummed to you.

The mouth, offended by the accusation, puffed its lips in something like a pout before the tongue resumed its teasing, tracing slow, careless patterns over your trembling stomach, dipping into your navel with a wet flick that made your breath hitch. Your back arched on instinct, body reacting before pride could catch up.

"S-Sukuna," you breathed, trying to hide your grin behind the blanket. "Tell it to behave."

“It has a mind of its own,” he replied, feigning innocence so poorly it was almost insulting. His hand slid into your hair, fingers combing through it with a lazy claim that made your throat tighten. You glared down at the mouth as if it could understand you.

“Does it?” you asked, voice quieter now, as if you were speaking to something that might answer. "Naughty mouth…" you whispered at it, though you couldn’t help the smile creeping on your face. The lips quirked again and the mouth let out a low hum that vibrated against your palm.

"Perhaps," Sukuna mused, deliberately cryptic. The tongue gave your palm one last playful lick, then paused, hovering like it was considering the next sin. "Or perhaps it simply knows what pleases its master…" His thumb stroked your scalp slowly, like he was feeling the tenderness of a cut of meat. "…and how to torment you."

You resisted at first.

It was ridiculous, that was the problem.

The lips parted in an idle, expectant curve, the more your hesitation turned into a strange, bubbling curiosity. The mouth looked hungry in a way that wasn’t quite threatening. It was shameless, almost…petulant. Like it wanted your attention. Sukuna was watching you, his eyes were heavy-lidded, expression carved into that familiar arrogance, but there was something sharp beneath it. A quiet patience that wasn’t patience at all. More like he’d already decided what you were going to do and was simply waiting for you to catch up.

Your throat went tight briefly, then you leaned down to it and gave a quick, timid kiss. “Muah…” you breathed, the sound soft, like you were testing whether you’d be punished for it.

Nothing happened for a moment, then the mouth pressed up eagerly, lips closing around yours with a sudden enthusiasm. The tongue swept over your lower lip, wet, insistent, and far too alive, as if it were trying to learn you by taste alone. A startled gasp slipped out of you, and the mouth chased it, kissing you deeper with a sloppy, affectionate greed that had no right to be so intimate. Your hands splayed against Sukuna’s abdomen, fingers curling in reflex.

Above you, Sukuna’s grip in your hair tightened, his low rumble vibrated through his chest and into your palms, approval that felt like a brand of its own. “Look at you,” he breathed deeply, voice thick with amusement. “Kissing it like you mean it.”

Your face flared hotter. “Shut up,” you whispered, though you didn’t pull away.

The mouth made a soft, pleased sound and nudged up for another kiss, demanding it.

You gave it one.

And another.

The sensation was wrong in the most dizzying way. Warm mouth, wet tongue, skin that should’ve been flat and harmless and normal moving beneath you like it had its own intention. The intimacy of it made your stomach flip, because intimacy with Sukuna meant laying down and letting him touch and move you. Right now, you were doing the exploring and he was letting you.

You could feel yourself growing bolder without meaning to, your lips lingering longer, your fingers tracing the edges like you were learning the shape of a secret. Sukuna’s thumb stroked your scalp lazily in a gesture that was almost tender, but the possessive weight of it made your pulse jump.

“Can you…taste from it?” you asked, voice quieter now, breath catching as the tongue flicked against your lips again. Curiosity slipped in around your flustered mind, sharpening it into something braver. “Do you eat with it?”

“I can,” Sukuna confirmed, his voice a low rumble. The mouth opened a fraction, obedient to him unlike what he claimed earlier, and you caught a glimpse of the rows of teeth, too neat and too sharp, identical to the ones in his true mouth. The sight made you shiver, half fascination and half fear. “Every sensation,” he continued, eyes trained on your face, “Every taste…” The tongue slid out again, slower now, and traced over your bottom lip as if proving the point.

Sukuna’s expression barely shifted, but the glint in his eyes sharpened. “I rarely use it for eating,” he added, like the idea bored him. “I prefer to save it for…other purposes.”

Your brows drew together as you pulled back just enough to look down at it properly, fingers still circling the edges in small, careful strokes. “Other purposes?” you echoed.

The mouth followed you, lips parting like it didn’t want the distance.

You swallowed, then asked the next question that rose up anyway, unable to stop yourself now that you’d started. “Not for eating…can you speak from it? I haven’t seen you use it for anything else-”

“Sit on it.”

Your whole body went hot, from your cheeks to the base of your spine, as the meaning caught up with you. “Sit on…?” you stammered, eyes snapping up to Sukuna’s.

“Do you need it spelled out?” he asked, voice thick with that lazy cruelty. His fingers flexed in your hair again, the pull subtle but unmistakably possessive. “Or are you going to pretend you don’t understand?”

You glanced down at the mouth, it was open now, waiting. The tongue slid out and swiped over its own lips slowly, obscene and deliberate. A tremor went through you at the act, subtly lewd and obscene in nature. “No,” you whispered, mortified. “I understand.”

“Good.” Sukuna’s gaze flicked over you like he was measuring your courage. Then his mouth curved into a smirk that made you want to hit him and kiss him at the same time. “Go on then, unless you’re chicken.”

“Wh…chicken?? How do you even…” Indignation flared up fast, sharp enough to cut through the embarrassment. You huffed, shoulders squaring as your pride latched onto the insult like a lifeline. “I’m not chicken,” you snapped, the words coming out breathy because your body was already betraying you. You shifted, bracing your hands against Sukuna’s chest as you climbed over him. His muscles moved under your palms, solid and steady, like nothing about this was strange at all. The mouth on his abdomen watched you with invisible eyes and blatant anticipation.

Sukuna’s never left yours while you settled, “Slow,” he advised smoothly.

Your throat bobbed around a swallow as you positioned yourself above his abdomen, knees trembling, and hovered there for a heartbeat, staring down at the wet heat of that waiting tongue. Your pulse hammered, pride screaming at you to stop. But curiosity and that unbearable awareness of Sukuna’s attention drew you lower.

When you finally sank down, the enlarged tongue met you with a slick, warm press that stole your breath in a shaky, broken gasp. Your fingers dug into Sukuna’s chest, knuckles whitening as you pulled back up again, “Gah-wait!” You blinked in shock, for some reason this made you feel more shy than having his face between your legs. Your clit throbbed, you could fucking feel it throbbing. Your body demanded you to sit back down, but you felt so self conscious all of a sudden.

Below you, Sukuna’s approving rumble deepened, his hands slowly pulled you to sit back down against his belly mouth. “Mm,” he murmured, satisfied. “There you go.” Sukuna’s hands moved down to hold the back of your thighs, coming up to the round of your ass and lightly spreading you. “Don’t hold out on me now, little one…”

You were shaking at the sensation, your entire body trembling as you slowly sank down further. The tongue moved eagerly against you, exploring and teasing as Sukuna's grip on your ass kept you shamelessly spread and vulnerable. "S-Sukuna," you gasped breathlessly, your hands clutching desperately at Sukuna's chest as pleasure began to build with alarming intensity. “W…wait-still sensitive…”

The tongue did not wait.

It pressed against you, probing both holes before playfully pushing inside your pussy, making you yelp and moan out. Your eyes widened, the tongue was thick and stretched you a little, just around the tip of it where it had gone inside. The tongue began lapping your slit and thrusting shallowly, tasting and rubbing your velvet walls, the tip gently rocking against that spongy sweet spot inside you.

Four eyes were glued to you while you writhed above Sukuna, the tongue working deeper as you slowly got used to its size and gave in. "Such beautiful sounds," he purred, his grip shifted as he guided you into a slow, torturous rhythm. The mouth beneath worked relentlessly, the wet muscle curling and stroking inside that made you see stars. “You’re so pretty like this, pet…nngh, so pretty making those little noises…”

Your eyes rolled back, body trembling violently as the tongue continued its relentless assault, stroking against that perfect spot over and over until your vision began to white out. "A-ah! Sukuna, I-I can't…hold it!" You cried out between rapid inhales, breaking into desperate sobs of pleasure as your thighs shook uncontrollably in Sukuna's firm grip. You leaned back, chasing that hot build up of pressure in your cunt, your hands flying behind you and clawing into Sukuna’s thighs for support.

"Good," Sukuna growled approvingly, his voice thick while he watched you arch beautifully above him, the new position allowing the tongue to delve even deeper. "Show me how much you can take, my precious pet." His hands slid to your hips, gripping possessively as he began to control the rhythm, forcing you to literally ride the tongue with increasing desperation.

The tongue forced its way deeper, your poor pussy stretching more and more while it slithered inside you like a thick free-thinking appendage. Your breath came in ragged gasps, trying to control yourself. The thing curled inside, hitting your sweet spot again and again, never letting up until you became overwhelmed with constant pleasure. Your head fell back, a string of curses with Sukuna’s name tied in began to rush from your mouth. Lewd cries and gasps, the sound of saliva and your cum began squelching below your hips as you continued bouncing on him even after your orgasm hit. You chased every ounce of pleasure you could take, even in passing, even as the high faded away into nothing but sensitivity.

Sukuna eventually halted your hips with a firm, final hold. You quivered with aftershocks as the tongue slowly withdrew with a loud pop, glistening more than it should, leaving you oversensitive in a way that made your breath stutter. "Shit…" you whimpered hoarsely, fingers still dug into his thighs like you needed something solid to keep from floating away. Sukuna’s hands gentled despite the strength in them, guiding you down until you could collapse against him again.

His lower arms wrapped around you, anchoring you to his chest as your breathing slowly steadied. "You enjoyed that far too much," he chuckled, one hand stroking through your hair while the other traced lazy patterns down your bare spine, claiming you with every pass. The King of Curses allowed himself this rare moment of indulgent quiet, savoring the weight of your body, his cherished possession, like it was something he’d earned and had a right to.

You swallowed thickly, still trembling and gathering your strength to talk again. “I didn’t do anything…” You whispered, lazy and sleepy, cheeks burning. “I just let you do the work…”

Sukuna hummed, amused. "And you think that makes you innocent?" He tipped you up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You surrendered yourself to me," he rumbled after a moment, voice a low purr of satisfaction. "That is more than enough." His arms tightened around you like iron chains, as if he could physically bind you to his side for eternity. “Sleep…that should be enough of a drop to put you to bed.”

“Are you sure this looks okay…?” You looked in the mirror after Sukuna dressed you in expensive fabrics, sheer red silk that framed you, jewelry that featured all your best assets and, well…his favorites too.

He circled you slowly, drinking in every detail. "You look like a divine offering," he purred, his hand trailing along your silk-draped shoulder, "Adorned precisely as you should be. Everyone who lays eyes upon you will know you are mine. Now…let us go punish those vipers.” He stood, turning and patting his leg. “Come.”

You followed, the silk fabrics flowing around you like liquid crimson as you moved. Your heart pounded with nervousness and unexpected trust, he had only briefly explained what was going to happen today. Adorned as his prized possession, you would stand beside the King of Curses as you confronted those who had dared to poison your mind.

You walked through the halls of the palace, keeping a step behind Sukuna, head down, silent, just as he instructed you to be. Appearances were strict, you had to obey and maintain a proper display in front of others. When you reached his throne room, you were taken aback by it, truthfully you had never been there. You were only really taken to and from the garden outside the palace, the few ponds he had ordered to be built for you, and his bed chamber. You had never been inside his throne room; vast and brilliant in its malevolence.

The throne room stretched with a natural imposing feeling, its ceiling disappearing into shadows that writhed with malevolent energy. Massive pillars of black stone lined the chamber, each carved with intricate scenes of conquest and suffering, their surfaces gleaming with an unnatural sheen. The floor was polished obsidian, reflecting distorted images like a dark mirror, perhaps something to mimic trapped and fallen souls Sukuna had struck down in his glory days. Scattered around the room were the remnants of those who had displeased the King of Curses, bones arranged in specific patterns as warningful decor.

At the far end of the chamber, elevated on a dais of skulls and dark marble, sat Sukuna's throne; a monstrous construction of twisted human bone and blackened metal, adorned with vermillion silk that matched the fabric you wore. Torches burned with eerie red flames along the walls, casting dancing shadows that made the room feel alive with menace. The air itself felt heavy with cursed energy, thick enough to choke anyone who wasn't accustomed to such overwhelming power.

The atmosphere was suffocating in its grandeur, designed to make visitors feel small and insignificant before Sukuna’s might.

He took a seat, then glanced at you. “By my feet…”

You walked up to his throne, it almost felt as though you were on trial, the walk up the few steps was intimidating all on its own. You carefully lowered yourself to kneel beside the throne, the sheer red silk pooling around you like blood as you settled into position. You made sure to keep your head bowed in a display of perfect submission, the jewelry adorning you catching the eerie red torchlight and gleaming like fresh wounds. You favored one side of your hip as you sat, legs still together but folded in front of you instead of being tucked beneath you. Right now, you were the picture of devoted obedience; a beautiful, living trophy positioned exactly where you belonged at the king’s side.

Sukuna reached down, carefully adjusting some decorative things in your hair.

You sat perfectly still, feeling the gentle tug of Sukuna's fingers working through your hair. Each ornamental piece was placed with purpose, golden chains that draped across you, crimson jewels that dangled near your temples and forehead, and delicate pins adorned with tiny skulls.

“Eyes.” Sukuna muttered.

Your eyes met Sukuna's as he quietly ordered. The stones in your hair and draped along your skin caught any light hitting the surface as you tilted your head slightly upward, framing your face in a way that made you look ethereal yet utterly submissive, a perfect vision of beauty and obedience for all who would soon witness.

“Such a perfect thing you are…” Sukuna hummed, fixing one tiny stone to face outward..

His words made your heart swelled with warmth at the praise, a soft blush coloring your cheeks as you lowered your gaze once more. You could feel the weight of Sukuna's possession in every ornament adorning your body, every silk thread that bound you to his will. And if you were honest with yourself, you couldn’t bring yourself to mind right now.

The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the throne room, signaling the arrival of those who would soon face Sukuna’s wrath. The anxiety of the unknown made you instinctively pressed closer into his leg. It helped, you used his leg for support as you leaned into it, relieving any pressure that might’ve been held in your palm from your seated position.

His hand came to rest on your head as the doors to the throne room groaned open. The sound of multiple footsteps echoed across the obsidian floor and you could feel the cursed energy shift as figures entered: the very sorcerers who had whispered poison into impressionable ears, who had dared to suggest he was anything less than absolute.

“I have called you all here to discuss your speech.” Sukuna began, voice calm enough to be almost conversational. One of his hands lifted lazily toward the cup Uraume offered on a lacquered tray. Uraume did not move until Sukuna’s fingers brushed the rim.

The servants lined below the dais shifted like a school of fish sensing blood. Their shoulders drew tight beneath their robes, eyes flicking from Sukuna’s throne to the figure kneeling at his feet, then back again as if trying to measure which sight was more dangerous. The air already tasted of iron to anyone sensitive enough to notice the cursed energy pressing down on the room. Sukuna took a slow sip, watching the crowd over the rim of the cup, unblinking, delighted in a way that made the torchlight feel colder.

For a moment, the only sound was the soft clink of jewelry against silk and velvet as his fingers idly toyed with the ornaments in your hair. The mouth on his abdomen opened in an exaggerated stretch, lips slick and obscene. It licked itself, displaying enlarged fangs with shameless pride, and the nearest servants flinched hard enough that their sandals scraped against obsidian.

Sukuna set the cup back onto the tray, the sound echoed through the room like a gavel. “I don’t like snakes,” he said, almost mildly. He tilted his head into his knuckles as if considering a problem of etiquette, “And it seems that I have several among you.”

The pressure in the room thickened, Sukuna’s touch in your hair remained soft, fingers stroking through chains and pins as if you were a favored ornament he wore for his own amusement. “Would any of you care to confess before I reveal what I already know?”

A few of the servants exchanged frantic looks. There were only three who had dared to speak to you directly, but Sukuna’s gaze made it clear he was not interested in technicalities. Complicity counted. Silence counted. Even listening without reporting counted. That was betrayal enough in his eyes.

No one spoke.

The quiet stretched, long enough for shame to start sweating beneath skin, and a weak stomach to threaten revolt. A sleeve trembled. Someone’s knee knocked against the floor with a soft, accidental clack.

Sukuna’s fingers stopped in your hair, the sudden stillness was worse than a shout to those who understood his body language. “Very well, then allow me to enlighten you.” He leaned forward a fraction, and the movement alone made the servants recoil as if the throne itself had shifted. “There are those who deemed it appropriate to speak to my pet.” Each syllable like he was carving it into bone and adding it to his throne. His eyes narrowed, cruelness sharpening, “To deceive her.”

A beat passed.

“To use my name like a tool and smear it with their own filth.” The mouth on his abdomen hummed, lips curling with ugly anticipation. Sukuna’s gaze swept the line. The guilty were obvious to him, and their bodies betrayed them before he would ever point a finger. Three faces drained white as rice paper. Two others tried to hide behind lowered chins, but Sukuna’s stare found them anyway.

His hand resumed its slow stroking like he was soothing a prized animal while deciding how to slaughter the ones who had frightened it. “Little prize,” Sukuna said at last, his tone shifting when he addressed you, the red flames painting his eyes brighter, more inhuman. The demon in him slowly making itself known as it was slowly crawling out of him.

You lifted obediently, expression serene despite the violence coiling through the room. You did not move from your place at his feet, if anything, you looked like you belonged there, like kneeling beside him was as natural as breathing.

“Do you remember who spoke to you?” Sukuna asked.

You nodded, lashes lowering for a heartbeat as you forced yourself to recall the kitchen, the false sympathy, the practiced venom. Your eyes lifted again and briefly landed on the three servants who had approached you, the ones whose hands had been too bold, whose mouths had been too free. “Yes, Master,” you said softly, the term felt weird to say in front of others, but that is what he demanded you use.

“You do?” Sukuna’s gaze returned to the line of servants, predatory and pleased. “And are they here in this room?”

Your throat tightened, but your voice did not waver. “Yes, Master,” you confirmed again, gaze settling on them like a blade choosing where to cut.

Term again. It wasn’t so bad after the first time.

A strangled, desperate sound muffled out one of the servants’ mouths. Another’s legs buckled, barely saved by the person beside them.

Sukuna exhaled, amused. “Good,” he said, and the word was a promise. His hand drifted from your hair to your jaw, tilting your face up with ease as if to remind everyone present that you were not a witness they could intimidate.

“Look at them,” he murmured to you, voice low enough to be intimate. “They wanted you to believe you were nothing. They wanted you to doubt what is mine.” His thumb traced your lower lip slowly, an action dressed as affection. Then his voice rose again, filling the throne room. “Guilty, step forward,” Sukuna ordered, and even the flames inside the torches seemed to bow at his voice., dimming ever slightly.

No one moved. Typical. The guilty were always cowardly.

Sukuna smiled, showing teeth. “Ah,” he sighed, almost indulgent. “So you require encouragement.”

He leaned back in his throne as if the entire matter bored him, elbow propped on bone and marble, cheek resting in his knuckles. His gaze dragged across the line of servants once more, slow and deliberate, as if counting them the way a butcher counted carcasses. “Last chance,” he said, voice smooth enough to pass for mercy. “Confess…or my pet will tell me who.”

No one dared to meet his eyes for long, even fewer dared to look at you.

At last, one servant broke, a thin man with hollowed eyes stumbled forward, knees nearly giving out beneath him. He bowed so hard his forehead hovered a breath above the floor, shaking like a leaf pinned under a dagger. “M-My Lord, I…I only wished to protect her from-”

“Protect?” Sukuna’s voice cut through the air like his invisible cleaves, a sightless blade already at the throat. “You presume to know better than me what she requires?” His hand tightened on the arm of the throne, bone creaking faintly under the pressure. Blood red eyes brightened, and the shadows at the edges of the room leaned inward, eager as he inclined forward just a fraction. The servants recoiled as if he had stood. “My dear…” Sukuna addressed you, “Point them out.”

Hesitation was not an option, not with that tone or look.

Your breath caught high, but you kept your posture perfect, chin lowered, hands still for one heartbeat longer than comfort allowed. Then your hand rose, graceful, obedient, inevitable. A single finger extended and you might as well have lifted a reaper’s scythe towards each one.

First, the thin man who had stepped forward, trembling so violently his shoulders jerked.

Then, a woman with sharp features, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack, eyes wide with the dawning horror of consequence.

Then, the younger servant whose face had gone ghost white, lips parted as if they could not remember how to breathe.

“Those three, Master,” you whispered, voice softer than you intended, betrayed by the quick, anxious flutter in your chest despite the fact that there was nowhere safer in the world than at Sukuna’s side, planted beside him, at his feet. His gaze followed the path of your finger, lingering on each culprit in turn.

And then his lips curved. “How considerate,” Sukuna purred, rising from his throne with unhurried grace, “To save me the trouble of extraction. The rest of you…out of my sight.”

The innocent servants scrambled toward the exits, their footsteps echoing frantically against the polished floor as they fled from the throne room. Only the three guilty ones remained, frozen in place, their terror rendering them immobile as Sukuna descended from his throne. A tiger prowling down, a step sharpening extended claws towards trapped prey. You stayed sitting where you had been, watching through lowered lashes as he approached the trembling traitors like death incarnate.

“My darling pet…” Sukuna turned, voice almost singing. His finger curling, encouraging you to come close. “Don’t fret, my dear…they will not move a muscle.”

You rose from your kneeling position as the silk fabrics whispered around you like a precious veil, or an extension of his energy. You approached quietly, the jewelry clinking gently, tiny chains flashing with riches, awaiting whatever command would fall from his lips.

“Be a good girl and tell me…which one spoke the worst.”

Your eyes shifted to the sharp-featured woman, whose voice had been the most venomous when she spoke of Sukuna's supposed cruelties. "Her, Master," you said softly, your chin lifting just slightly toward the trembling figure. "She claimed you would tire of me and discard me like all the others. And that the brand was a mistake…and that I would be left to die when you were done ruining my body."

Silence.

Then-

“Go sit back down, sit pretty for me…” Sukuna muttered.

You moved back to your position beside the throne and lowered yourself to your knees. The shades of red caressing you, as you smoothed it all into place, coaxing every fold into perfection. You adjusted the drape so the silk framed you exactly how he preferred, so the chains and crimson jewels caught every glance of light instead of hiding from it. Your hands folded in your lap, fingers still, spine straight, chin lowered just enough to read as satisfied reverence instead of forced fear.

“Do you see her? How dare you spit such venomous accusations and lies about your KING!”

The woman’s face twisted as Sukuna’s cursed energy unfurled from him, sudden and suffocating, like a storm deciding where to strike. The torches guttered. The soulless floor darkened under the pressure as the images distorted away from where he stood like he were oil placed onto ink. Even the air felt sharp to breathe, charged with malice that made the servants’ teeth chatter.

“I wonder,” Sukuna murmured, voice almost thoughtful as he drifted around her in a slow circle, “What punishment suits a mouth that dared to speak for me.” His sadistic eyes raked over the line with lazy ownership, then landed on her again, and the look alone made her knees threaten to fold. “One who thought it amusing to poison my pet’s mind with vile squalor.”

Uraume stepped forward at a single tilt of Sukuna’s chin, expression smooth as ice. They did not utter a word. You remained kneeling, jewelry cold against your skin, the room no longer felt warm. The red fabric looked like you were doused in fresh blood. Was it intentional? The soon to be spilled blood is your cause? You tried to keep your face still, but your stomach tightened anyway. You did not know what he would do, only that he would do it thoroughly. He loved this type of shit.

“Uraume, ensure they do not run.” The last word barely left his tongue before winter crawled across the throne room.

Frost blossomed at the servants’ feet in delicate, vicious patterns, crystalline veins spreading over the black floor like a living thing. The ice rose with the patience of a blooming flower, encasing ankles, shins, knees. Panic flickered across their faces in a wave. One tried to jerk free and only earned a sharper crack of freezing air as the ice tightened like a vice. Their muscles and blood froze, subzero temperatures rushing through their bodies and halting at the waist. Sukuna watched it like a man enjoying a performance, smile slow and satisfied. “Now…” he said, and the single syllable made the woman flinch.

He reached for her as if she weighed nothing. His hand clamped around her jaw, bruising in an instant, forcing her mouth open until her lips stretched and her breath turned into a strangled, wet sound. She gagged on fear. She nearly vomited. Sukuna held her there, steady, unhurried, as if he were inspecting a tool that had disappointed him. “I wonder…” he repeated, eyes glinting, then released her abruptly, only to stroll back toward you like the violence belonged in his pocket.

You looked to him as he neared, Sukuna took your wrist and turned your palm upward. Something dropped into your hand and your fingers curled reflexively to trap it.

Jade.

A single die, smooth and cool, its faces carved with tiny symbols painted gold that caught the red torchlight. It felt heavier than it should have for something so small. You looked up at Sukuna, confusion tightening your throat.

“Roll it,” he commanded, settling back onto his throne as if this were entertainment to pass the evening, three trapped jesters awaiting trial..

“Odd number, tongue. Even number, teeth.”

Your pulse knocked hard beneath your ribs. The die sat in your palm like a verdict. You glanced at the three frozen servants, their eyes wide and glassy, the frost creeping higher as they shivered. Their terror was loud in the silence. “…Can I,” you asked, voice small despite yourself, “Roll however I want to?”

Sukuna’s mouth curved, pleased by the question. “However you like, dear pet,” he purred, and it sounded indulgent only on the surface. “Each of them will receive what fate decides.”

Your mind flashed back to the kitchen. Their false sympathy, their cruelty was so practiced that you wondered if they rehearsed it. The way they had watched you hurt like it was a sweet thing to taste. You remembered how small you had felt, how stupid, how easily their words had found the soft parts inside you and pressed until you bled. You remembered how giddy the servants looked while tearing your self esteem and mind apart. Watching you tremble with shiny eyes, tears pricking your lashes as they continued spitting words and phrases that weren’t true like black scaled cobras, just to watch you crumble.

Maybe they hoped Sukuna would get rid of you so they could swoop in and replace you, that’s what everyone wants to do, right? Replace you, like you weren’t good enough. They thought you weren’t good enough, not for anything, not even to be a slave.

The die clicked softly against the floor, once.

Not a roll.

A simple choice.

Even.

Sukuna’s grin widened as a low chuckle rolled out of him, pleased as a god watching a mortal finally admit what they were. “Teeth it is,” he said, voice warm with approval. He rose, the sharp-featured woman went so pale you thought she died right there, lips trembling around a sound that never fully formed. He crossed the distance in an unhurried stride and seized her again, fingers digging into her cheeks, forcing her mouth open wider than any should tolerate, fingers digging into the hinge of her jaw. Her scream came out mangled around his grip, muffled and ugly, turning instantly into sobbing breaths.

It was the more painful choice, having all her teeth forcibly extracted rather than her tongue being cut out.

Neither is preferable surely, but you were hurt. You had wanted her to hurt, you did. But when it began, when the room filled with the raw, unmistakable sounds of it, the wet desperation, the crack of roots tearing loose, something in your stomach lurched. The violence was too real up close. Too visceral. It stopped being satisfying and became something that made your throat tighten and your eyes sting.

You tried to keep watching but your gaze broke, flinching away as if you were the one being punished.

Uraume noticed, they had only been standing a few feet away from you. They moved to you in a quiet glide and gave a subtle, elegant flick of their fingers. Tiny spheres of ice formed, perfect little marbles that clinked softly together near your hand. A narrow trail of frost appeared on the floor in front of you, a small maze drawn in delicate lines. It was a silent distraction provided to you without you needing to voice your discomfort.

You focused on the marbles in your palms, rolling them back and forth until your fingers stopped shaking. You guided one through the icy path, eyes locked on the harmless game while the throne room filled with sounds you refused to acknowledge.

A crack.

A choked scream.

A wet, gargling sob.

Frantic begging that barely got around the blood that nearly choked the servant. Maybe she swallowed some of the teeth. The click of them hitting the floor didn’t add up to the number she had in her mouth.

You breathed through it, slow and shallow, letting the cold bite your fingertips until it anchored you.

When the noise finally died down, replaced by broken, hoarse whimpers, you dared to look up. Sukuna stood with blood on his hand like a glove he’d forgotten to remove. His arm extended toward you, palm open, fingers flexing once, expectant.

Your breath caught and for a slight second you hesitated, unsure whether you were meant to come to him or stay where you belonged, unsure what he wanted from you now that you had made your choice.

Sukuna crooked a finger again. The gesture was lazy, almost playful, but it was still a command.

You rose, silk whispering as you moved, ornaments chiming softly with each careful step. You approached slower this time, eyes averted from the woman barely upright in Sukuna’s grip, body trying not to tremble as you came to a stop a few steps away. You waited for whatever he desired next.

Sukuna’s bloodied fingers reached out to your face, tipping you up until you had no choice but to meet his eyes. The touch was almost gentle, and that made it worse. “Did you enjoy choosing her fate?” he asked, the question was mostly curiosity, but there was a hint of a testing tone to it. His thumb dragged along your lower lip, leaving a faint crimson smear behind like a mark.

You forced yourself to look past him. The servant was still alive and the sight of her pain turned your stomach in a slow, ugly roll. Fresh blood looked like paint. Unnaturally thick and wet.

A part of you felt vindicated, heat curling in your chest like a secret you didn’t want to name. Another part of you wanted to close your eyes and disappear back into the silk cradling you.

Your throat burned, “…I did, Master,” Your lip trembled as you added, quieter, “I just…didn’t like the sound after a while.” You admitted, voice small but steady. You were honest, knowing he’d detect a lie.

His mouth curved. Not quite a smile, not quite a snarl. “Such sensitivity,” he murmured, thankfully he sounded more amused than anything else. He wiped the blood from your lip with his thumb, as if you were something to keep pristine even in a room like this.

He moved in front of you, then turned his head, voice dropping into a low hush that still filled the chamber. “Dismantle.”

The executions that followed were swift.

Not kind but brief, precise, a clean ending instead of a drawn-out lesson like the first. Even that small concession made the air feel wrong, like the world had tilted for you in a way it never did for anyone else. You almost felt wind around you like invisible blades wooshed past you, but you didn’t see the executions because of where he had stood.

Sukuna didn’t bother to watch the aftermath with any reverence either. “Take this one down to the cells,” he ordered, chin lifting toward the sharp-featured woman. “Let her bleed out for all I care. Preserve the bodies for later consumption.”

Uraume moved immediately, lower-ranked servants stepped in with bowed heads and shaking hands. The woman’s hoarse, broken whimpering echoed as she was dragged away, leaving a dark, smeared trail across the polished floor like spilled ink that clotted every now and then. A steady faucet of blood pouring out of her mouth. Perhaps her jaw had been broken in the process, you weren’t sure. You honestly didn’t want to know nor did you look too closely. You only knew something had snapped or torn to make that sound. You stayed near Sukuna even after they left because that was where you were safest, the room itself seemed eager to punish anything that stood alone.

“...worthless vermin,” Sukuna muttered, already bored. The high of his sadism already fading and leaving him feeling dull. He crossed to a basin along the wall and plunged his hands into the water.

You followed, watching the water cloud pink around his fingers, then darker, swirling like diluted wine. You reached for a cloth from the stand and offered it with both hands. Your gaze flicked up, it was only for a heartbeat before you lowered it again. He took the cloth and dried his hands slowly, watching you as if he were weighing something. “You did well today,” he said, and the softness in his voice was strange on him, dangerous in its own way. “Loyalty deserves to be rewarded.”

Your breath caught, you feared what a reward from him meant. It could be anything. Sukuna loved games, loved tests, and loved messing with you.

Last time he claimed you deserved a reward, he held a hot iron against the back of your neck and branded a mark against you.

You could still smell burning flesh if you focused hard enough. “…I don’t need a reward for obeying,” you whispered. “I simply do what I am supposed to do.” You felt Sukuna’s hand on your cheek, that eye closed briefly as his thumb had trailed too close to your lashes.

“You obey because you are mine,” he rumbled. “But I reward what pleases me.” Another hand settled at your waist, “And you, my pet, have pleased me greatly today.”

Heat rose under your skin at the praise, now that you were flush with him, his clear arousal was obvious against your belly. “Master…” you breathed, blinking hard, as if the word could steady you. “I…feel your eagerness already…”

A low sound rolled out of Sukuna’s chest, pleased. He drew you closer until you could feel the weight of him, the steady power that made everyone else in the room feel like prey. Despite your position, you didn’t feel that way. His mouth brushed near your decorated ear, voice dropping. “Then perhaps,” he murmured, “You should feel it more intimately.”

The implication made your face burn, but it also lit a reckless spark in you, pride, devotion, and the dizzy relief of being chosen. A sudden wave of adrenaline rushed through your veins.

You found yourself pressing your hands to his back, urging him away from the basin and back toward the throne with careful insistence. Not pushing, okay maybe a little pushing, but mostly guiding.

Something inside you felt loose and bright, as if the chain around your throat had turned into jewelry instead. The lengths he went to because of words, because of what they tried to make you believe, left you shaking with a terrible kind of gratitude. You had never felt so protected. So kept despite the circumstance.

Sukuna allowed it. He returned to his throne with your soft ushering, settling into it as if the seat. His stare pinned you there, four burning eyes, patient and hungry with expectation. “Oh?” he purred. “What’s this…?”

You lowered yourself to your knees before him, the silk like a deep cocoon, a throne all in itself, your ornaments chiming softly with the movement. Your hands slid up his muscular and stupidly thick thighs as you lifted your face. “Allow me,” you whispered with devotion and thrill, “To worship you…properly. Such a king who goes through the lengths to punish servants for speech deserves to be pleased.”

Sukuna’s head tilted, approving. His legs spread wide at your tone. “Then worship me, my beautiful pet,” he said, voice thick with desire. The red flames, velvet, silk, sheer maroon sheets, the gemstones and delicate gold chains made you appear more like a divine offering than a human servant.

“Always, master…” You whispered, undoing the fastenings around his waist and pulling Sukuna free as you bit your lip, both of his cocks sprang out and throbbed eagerly for you. Your hands gently took one in each, offering a few steady strokes before you picked one to suckle on.

Sukuna groaned deeply as he watched your lips stretch around him, the wet heat of your pretty mouth drawing a rumble of pleasure from his chest. "That’s it," he praised, his voice roughened with desire as his hips shifted slightly, urging you to take him deeper. For now, he refrained from touching you, giving you the chance to please him on your own accord.

His sounds were encouraging and you took him deeper, slowly taking more and more as you bobbed steadily, drooling and whining as the fat head of his cock coated your tongue in salty precum and hit your uvula. You popped off and took the other one in your mouth, giving it a turn.

Sukuna's eyes blazed with approval as he watched you lavish attention on both of his cocks, the sight of you so eager to suck him off sent waves of pleasure straight to his core. "Greedy little thing," he growled, his voice thick with lust as he guided your head back to the first, now slick with saliva. His hips rolled forward demandingly, seeking the heat of your throat again.

“…greedy…and you buck into my mouth.” You sputtered out, giving Sukuna a playful look, though unsure if you were allowed to speak this way since you were out of his bed chamber. “Sorry,” You whispered quickly, his mood was so sensitive, you didn’t want to accidentally kill his arousal or anger him.

But instead, Sukuna's laughter rumbled through the throne room instead of a quick correction, rich and dark with amusement. His tone was indulgent as he traced your jawline with a bloodstained finger. "Your boldness pleases me."

With that, you playfully nipped his thumb, then hid against his thigh.

Sukuna grinned even more, a rare flicker of something almost fond crossing his features before the usual predatory hunger reasserted itself. "Brat," he guided your mouth back to his aching cocks, each one glistening and twitching. “Suck, or I will take over.” Beads of clear precum continued to grow at the reddened tips before drooling down the underside like clear droplets of dew. The throne room fell silent save for the soft crackling of the torches, the wet sounds of your worship, and Sukuna's deep, satisfied groans echoing off the dark walls. His praise encouraged you, even the slight degrading words that fell from his lips made your pussy throb under the silk.

“There you go, take more…you can do better than that. I’ve fucked your throat much harder than this.” He urged, watching you struggle to deepthroat him. You gagged and choked, gurgling around him as you tried your very best. Drool was everywhere, you were making quite a mess during your sucking. Still, you didn’t care, you took him until his swollen heads hit the back of your throat with each bob. His fat tips kissed your throat over and over, sliding down and bruising the tender flesh inside and made your eyes water.

Sukuna looked at you with carnal satisfaction as he watched you struggle beautifully, the sight of your tear-streaked face and drool-slicked chin only heightening his pleasure. "There we go," he groaned, his grip tightening in your hair as his hips began to move with more urgency, chasing his release in the heat of your mouth. “That’s much better, nngh…come on, tired already? Keep trying…”

In that moment nearing his orgasm, Uraume came to report the prisoners and they paused, as if the erotic scene was just a nuisance and something they happened to see often. “…must you do this here?” They questioned evenly.

Sukuna's gaze slid lazily toward Uraume, utterly unbothered by the interruption as you continued to work his cocks, forcing them down into your throat as much as possible. "I may do as I please, wherever I please," he drawled, his voice thick with pleasure as one hand remained tangled in your hair, guiding you up and down on him like you were a cock vessel or sex toy at his disposal. "Speak your report."

“The prisoners are preserved, the woman alive but she will likely die from blood loss or hypothermia, as I have preserved all but her head.” Uraume paused as you popped off with a gasp, then dipped your head down to the second cock to choke on. You slid it down your throat until you audibly gagged, but kept it snug enough that your throat bulged. His other cock laid across your face and spat out thick globs of precum into your hair, the heaviness of it almost plugged your nose. You looked like the definition of cock drunk.

“…all will be ready to prepare for meals in a moon.” They finished.

Sukuna's expression remained impassive, though satisfaction crossed his features at the report. "That’s perfect," he rumbled, his attention never wavering from your efforts, his hips rolling forward as he bared his teeth to keep back a loud groan as you switched cocks. "You may leave us." He waved off with a free hand.

Uraume bowed, walking out of the throne room, maybe a tad faster than their usual gait. You came off the dick that had been nearly suffocating you and whined loudly, your face hot and blushed, chin sloppy with spit and precum, panting as you looked back up at Sukuna.

He took in the debauched sight of you, lips swollen, face flushed with exertion, utterly devoted. "Such a beautiful mess you've made of yourself," he growled approvingly, his hand cupping your chin to tilt your face up further. "Come here."

Eagerly, you frantically crawled up, “Wan’ y’r cum…wanna feel it, swallow…it…wan’ it!” You whined loudly, your hands on Sukuna’s thighs, looking up to him with blown pupils, not off the ground completely, as if part of you wanted to stay in that position. Which you did. You loved it, the place between his legs, they themselves shielded you from the world and you knew you were safe there. Forbid anyone from daring to even look at you, the obscene nature of it, the way Uraume saw it and ignored it, like you belonged there. It made your cunt throb, your thighs were completely soaked with need.

Sukuna's raw desire skyrocketed, a feral growl rumbling from his chest as he pushed you back down between his thighs hard enough that your knees rocked into the floor. "Then take it, all of it," he commanded, his voice thick as both his now swollen cocks twitched. He hastily guided you to wrap those perfect lips around one while your hands worked the other, determined to give him exactly what he needed.

It took a minute to build him back up, but just as Sukuna’s groans grew loudest, you popped off the cock you were deepthroating and pulled both tips into your mouth and suckled hard, intending to fully milk everything he had from both tips, squeezing and jerking each one off to ensure every drop was pulled from him.

Sukuna's release crashed through him, a deep, guttural roar tore from his throat as he spilled into your slutty mouth, both cocks pulsing in tandem as you drank as much cum as possible with greed. He looked at you with savage satisfaction, watching your throat work to swallow it all, yet the sheer amount was too much, it trickled down your chin and to your chest, bubbling at the corners of your mouth and foaming white, translucent pearls. Lewd.

"Perfect," he growled breathlessly, his hand gentling in your hair as the aftershocks rolled through him, releasing the knot he had gripped onto and relieving your scalp. "My perfect little pet..."

“...you made my hair messy,” You pouted playfully, you reached up and felt the knots, the precum staining your hair, the way some of the chains and decorations had gotten tangled.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers threading through the disheveled strands as he smoothed them back into place. "A small price to pay for such exquisite worship," he murmured, his touch lingering. "Though I must admit, you wear disarray beautifully."

You caught your breath as he touched you and leaned your cheek into his thigh, poking your tongue out.

“Impudent little thing,” he murmured, the words threaded with clear amusement. His thumb traced the line of your jaw, then slid to your mouth. He tapped your tongue back in with a soft, almost mocking press, like he were putting you in your place with the smallest motion possible. He gathered some cum still on your face, then pushed two fingers into your mouth until they found the back of your tongue. Your eyes nearly closed, a soft gag choked out of you, yet he didn’t pull them out until you swallowed around them.

“Did you enjoy yourself, hm?” Sukuna’s voice dipped low, he took his time, drinking you in like a decadent, private feast. “You were more eager than I’ve ever seen.” The corner of his mouth lifted, and the look that followed was pure, satisfied cruelty. “Perhaps I should execute servants in front of you more often, if it reveals such pretty little reactions.”

“Sukuna…” You rolled your eyes, but your breath hitched on the sound of his name. The heat in your cheeks betrayed you faster than your pride could catch up. You crawled up his body anyway, jewelry chiming softly, and settled in his lap. Your forearm swept across your mouth, an embarrassed, clumsy attempt at dignity to wipe whatever had been left on your face. “I’m messy,” you whispered, the words small, but edged with the boldness you’d apparently forgotten how to hide.

He tilted his head, one hand slid to the small of your back, steadying you, “Messy,” he repeated, savoring it. A thumb brushed your lower lip once, then again. “Mm. I suppose I can clean you up.”

Before you could decide whether to be mortified or defiant, he lifted you.

Your body rose against his chest, and you made a sound you hadn’t meant to let out. Sukuna carried you out of the throne room as though the blood and frost and fear left behind were nothing but background noise. “Come,” he said, already turning toward his bed chamber, his tone turned into something familiar that made your stomach flip. He tightened his hold on you just enough to be a reminder, “And perhaps we can keep this boldness going.” His gaze dipped, indecent and knowing, the promise in it making your pulse stutter.

“Maybe you’ll beg for both tonight.”

thank you for reading all the way to the end!!

dividers by @/strangergraphics ; boarder image is just a screenshot

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