This video is so so simple but jesus. I'm obsessed with it. She clearly wasn't expecting this, she tries to cover herself up but cant hold back moans and whimpers. This is how fakeboys need to be treated
warnings: nsfw🔞, doctor/patient, gynecologist geto, pervy geto, dub con, medical kink, sexual misconduct, this is a long one~
“doctor geto will be in momentarily,” the nurse nods at you politely before slipping out of the room quietly.
you breathe out deeply in attempt to calm your nerves, turning away from the door to gaze at the tiled ceiling. the cheap gown you had to change into crinkles at every breath, only working to raise your nerves even further. it doesn’t help that you’re completely naked underneath, you even tried to keep your panties on at the very least but the nurse explained that they’d be taken off eventually anyways. you assume removing them on your own is preferable compared to having them ripped off of you by a doctor you’ve never met before.
you’ve always avoided the gynecologist, having heard horror stories from friends and family, and you were successful for twenty two years of your life— until now. apparently you were due for your first check up at twenty one, the recommended age for women to start getting checked, but you had dodged it when your primary physician recommended it.
but after a very bad, unsuccessful attempt at losing your virginity, you figured it’s time to make sure everything is okay down there. your face still burns when the awkward memory of your date attempting to push his cock into you for almost an hour and ultimately failing flashes within your mind. you can still hear him mutter, ‘i like tight but that’s just not normal.’
three brief knocks to the door snap you out of your nervous daze and you shoot upright, gown and protective sheet under you crinkling obnoxiously with your movement.
after a respectful moment, you clear your throat and put on a polite tone.
“come in!” and you cringe at the sound of your shaky voice as the door clicks open.
your face drains of blood when a tall, dark haired man slips in, wearing a long white doctors coat. you had almost thought he was a woman because of the long length of his hair but it quickly became obvious that‘s not the case due to his features and large form.
immediately he smiles in a respectful manner before turning to the sink in the corner to wash his hands.
“hello, y/n. how are you today?”
you’re incredibly stiff as you eye him sanitize his hands, silently racing through possible excuses you could use to get out of this. sure, you were a bit apprehensive about this whole thing before but you were willing to try— that is until a man walked in. you figured men weren’t even allowed in this profession considering the obvious, most not having the same genitalia, but apparently you were heavily mistaken because he has that natural bulge in his dress pants indicating he most definitely doesn’t have a vagina. you have no idea how this could be appropriate.
“um yes, good,” you trail off, blinking rapidly as he swivels the stool closer in front of you and settles onto it with a satisfied grunt, manspreading seemingly comfortably. “are you the uh- doctor?”
he hums with a nod and gently gestures to his name tag reading, ‘dr. geto.’
now your head spins, thighs pushing closed as tightly as possible while you unintentionally clench the white sheet under you.
he seems to notice your nervousness, though he had already picked up on it even before he entered the room—having seen you tapping your foot in the waiting area. he understands that it’s perfectly natural to be anxious before an appointment like this, especially as a young woman. according to your patient intake form, this is your first time at the gynecologist, your first time in this particular clinic, and your first time meeting him— so it makes sense. but still, your anxiety seems to exceed what he usually sees in his patients under these circumstances.
so he wears a face of concern as he addresses you.
“is everything okay?”
immediately you chuckle, nervously and avoid his intimidating eye contact. it certainly doesn’t help that he’s so attractive.
“i just,” you gulp, “-thought i’d have a woman doctor.”
his concerned face relaxes into an understanding one as he clasps his hands together professionally between his legs with his forearms resting on his upper thighs.
“ah, i see. i apologize for the misunderstanding, this is actually my clinic so i’m the only doctor here. you’re welcome to find another clinic you’re more comfortable with, but i would like to say that i’m a professional and you have nothing to worry about if you decide to stay.”
“oh! i um- don’t doubt your professionalism, i’ve just never done this before and..” you drift into silence, eyes flickering up at him briefly as a harsh heat litters your cheeks and neck.
“completely understandable to be nervous for your first time, but i assure you, you have nothing to worry about. i’ve seen many, many bodies on that very bed, and i’m quite used to it.” he smiles, comfortingly and though his words are meant to ease you, they do the opposite. they only work to remind you of the imminent threat of baring your naked lower half to the attractive man in front of you.
as if sensing your rising nerves, he speaks again.
“why don’t we just start with some questions? we don’t need to do an examination unless you want to.”
you sigh in relief and nod timidly, shoulders relaxing as you let go of the paper underneath you. though it’s still nerve wracking to tell him about why you’re here, it’s much less intimidating than the stirrups beside you.
a smile grows on his face as you nod and he claps his hands together gently in preparation.
“great. let’s start with why you’re here today— a regular check up or do you have a specific issue?”
you gulp, fingers fiddling in your lap. “well i have an issue, i guess.”
he hums and nods to urge you on as he adopts a focused expression.
“i’m worried i have some sort of- i don’t know- infection maybe?”
“i see. are you having symptoms?” he questions as you grapple with the vulnerability of this.
“uh- not exactly. i had a,” you pause as your gaze flickers up at the ceiling in attempt to explain the situation without exposing the whole embarrassing picture, “—situation. i can’t get something big inside of me.”
a moment of silence follows, and you anxiously glance back at his face, worrying that you might not be normal and that this is an unusual issue for him to encounter with patients.
he inhales as he briefly squints in slight confusion.
“i’m sorry— you said you can’t get something big inside of you? are you having intercourse problems?” geto remembers seeing on your intake form that you’re a virgin so he’s assuming when you first tried to have sex, he couldn’t put it in.
you inhale sharply with parted lips as if thinking on what to say, “yes.”
he hums and nods. “i think i understand. just to be clear, your partner— i’m guessing a man—hasn’t been able to penetrate you?”
“mhm. i’m just nervous that maybe something is wrong with me,” you mutter timidly, eyes nervously tracing his face, “i-is this not common?”
immediately he holds his hands up as to comfort you. “well, first of all i’d like to be clear that there’s likely nothing wrong with you. i can’t say i’ve had many patients with this problem but that doesn’t mean i can’t help.”
you chew on the inside of your cheek as you shyly nod.
“is this an issue of lack of lubrication maybe?” he questions with concentration and an obvious genuine desire to help you. as a man, geto knows how most other men are, your ‘partner’ who’s probably as young and naive as you are, likely doesn’t know how to turn you on correctly, doesn’t know the places that make you dripping wet like you need to be for penetration— especially for a virgin.
immediately, you flush even harsher. “oh, i don’t— i’m not completely sure. i don’t think so.” it’s not as if you were soaking wet when you had tried to have sex but you weren’t dry either.
“okay, maybe it’s a not an issue with you. was he able to hold an erection?” he inquires, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. he thinks it’s much more likely that this guy is the problem, maybe he got too nervous and chickened out before he could even get it in you.
“no, he was hard— i think,” you mumble, recalling the size of his dick was smaller than you imagined it would be. and if geto wasn’t such a trained professional, maybe you’d be able to tell he almost laughed at that.
“hmm, okay. may i ask if you use tampons? if so, is it painful?” he inquires, gently, growing worried that maybe something else is happening here.
“no, not painful really— i mean, maybe a little?” you sigh, unsure and a bit frustrated at your inability to aid the doctor efficiently. tampons are uncomfortable but you’re not sure if it’s an unusual level of discomfort.
“please, feel free to let me know if you’re uncomfortable with answering but it will aid your diagnosis if you can.” he briefs you, as if warning you for the next question gently.
you take a deep breath and nod, making him dart his tongue out briefly as if to prepare.
“do you masterbate?” he asks as if it’s a natural inquiry, and for him it probably is. your stomach tingles in nerves and surprise at the question.
your face heats up as you hesitate.
“kind of,” you shrug, noncommittally as if trying to avoid being too direct with your response. geto’s dealt with his fair share of shy patients, and by now, he's fluent in the 'maybe' and 'sort of' answers—yours being a clear yes.
“that’s very good,” he praises you with a deep tone, making you chew on the inside of your cheek, feet fidgeting against one another as you avoid direct eye contact. “it’s very healthy to bring yourself to orgasm as often as you can.”
you give him a smile that feels mandatory, it immaturely feels as if he knows something secret about you now as he gazes at you for a beat.
“when you masterbate, do you just touch? or do you penetrate yourself?” as his gentle, deep tone utters the word penetrate, you gulp, his eyes dancing down to flicker at your small fingers fidgeting against one another.
you nod stiffly with eyes on the floor. “both.”
“with—?” he trails off, head tilting a bit in attempt to observe your reaction to gauge your answer.
“my fingers,” you timidly explain, quickly brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear in a nervous habit.
“okay,” geto hums a chuckle, making your eyes dart up at him in question, “that’s great, really great.”
before you can ask why that’s so great with furrowed brows, he inhales deeply and his eyes lock back on you.
“and does this bring you to orgasm?” he asks gently, oddly comfortingly.
you can’t help but laugh awkwardly in a sort of nervous habit, making his grin grow in tandem to your laughing.
“is that funny?” he coos in amusement, as if playfully questioning a cat about the thrill of knocking over a glass.
you immediately shake your head no with a concealed immature smile.
“sorry—”
“—don’t apologize,” he interrupts your obviously casual apology as if it were a serious one, “it can be awkward to discuss things like this, i acknowledge that. especially with a man twice your age, just act like i’m one of your friends.”
you gulp, your obvious naivety feeling much more pronounced now that he’s reminded you of your difference in maturity.
“okay. how um— specific do you want me to be?”
his response is immediate, “as specific as you’re comfortable with. the more information, the better.”
you inhale deeply and squint at the ceiling as you think on it.
“well, i can cu— orgasm easier when i play wit— i mean stimulate my clit,” you stumble over your words, nervously.
he hums slowly, making the humiliation you already feel grow within yourself.
“how often do you play with yourself?” he asks, and for a moment, your eyes widen, fully aware that he’s using the exact words you were hesitant to say, afraid they’d come off as inappropriate.
you bite your lower lip subtly, briefly glancing at the floor. having to recall such intimate details while an attractive man with those sharp eyes watches you—it’s impossible not to squeeze your thighs together under the weight of the topic.
you remind yourself it’s silly to think this way—he’s a trained doctor, just doing his job, trying to innocently help a young girl. but still, you can’t shake the feeling— no man has ever asked you about something so intimate with such focus, as if he genuinely wants to understand what brings you to that intense high of pleasure.
you know it’s all in your head, that he’s actually being professional, yet a small part of you wonders if his role as a doctor ever follows him home. does he recall the patient who can only reach orgasm while playing with their nipples as he makes dinner? or does he keep those details neatly tucked away, never letting them blur the lines of his professionalism?
your gaze shoots up to him when he gently calls your name, pulling you out of your thoughts to check if you’re okay.
“oh sorry,” you huff sharply as you shake your head briefly, “maybe four times a week, it helps me sleep.”
“i see,” he clears his throat, adjusting on the stool briefly, “and how long does it take you to reach orgasm when you’re playing with your clit?”
you press your palms against your face, trying to mask your embarrassment as you avoid his gaze for a moment, the weight of his question hanging in the air, making you swallow hard.
“i dont really know,” you mumble, “i guess it depends on how uh— into it i am. sometimes five minutes, sometimes twenty.”
“that’s perfectly normal,” he smiles and allows for a beat, making you nod back in acknowledgement.
“does it hurt when you use your fingers inside?” he asks, making you hum in thought.
“sometimes,” you shrug, shyly.
then he takes a deep breath as if preparing to explain something to you. “well, it’s quite difficult to know for sure without an exam but there is a condition called vaginismus where the muscles around the vagina tighten involuntarily, making penetration difficult or painful.”
immediately you gulp and your brows pinch in worry. geto thinks you’re such a sweet girl, it pains him to worry you.
“i-is there a cure for that? if i have that, will i never be able to have sex?” you question eagerly, the embarrassment of speaking such words fizzle into worry for your wellbeing.
"don’t worry, there are effective treatments available to alleviate symptoms if that’s truly what the problem is but to diagnose you and or treat it will all require me to examine as well as—touch your vaginal area,” he explains with slight sympathy, seeing how your expression changes into one of terror as he speaks.
“fuck,” you mutter to yourself, hands running down your face in preparation, “okay, fine. just help me, please.”
the idea of never being able to have sex like a normal person scares you— not to mention the fear and embarrassment of having to tell any boyfriends in the future about your potential condition before dating. even though this doctor is a man and in retrospect, you could find another place with a woman doctor, that might take a few days to verify with your insurance before even booking an appointment. you’re sure this condition isn’t time sensitive for treatment based on what he said but you aren’t sure if you can sleep tonight without knowing what’s wrong with you.
he smiles kindly. “great, i understand this may be uncomfortable, but please know that i’ll prioritize your comfort and provide the highest level of care. you can trust me.”
you exhale shakily and nod with a small, polite smile.
“um- do i just,” you stutter, gesturing towards the stirrups and leaning back on your palms awkwardly.
he huffs softly in amusement but cuts himself off. “i know the stirrups can be intimidating so lets just start with lying back and relaxing.”
you nod with a shaky sigh as you lie back, your calves and feet dangling off the edge, staring up at the dull, off-white ceiling once again. before he approaches you, you hear him opening a cabinet and grabbing something from it.
he then approaches your side, adjusting the bed so that it raises a bit considering he’s so tall. he then slides out a foot rest that elongates the bed, gently picking up your calves and aiding in placing them down on it so you’re lying flat.
“i’m going to start with checking your blood pressure, heart rate, all that boring stuff,” he lightly jokes with a silly, kind smile making you huff despite your anxiety.
you watch as he proceeds to un velcro the blood pressure cuff, hold it with one hand, and then lay the other hand on your covered thigh. “this doohickey goes around your upper thigh, unfortunately it’s more accurate that way. is that okay?”
it’s evident he’s trying to make the situation more comfortable by calling the blood pressure cuff a ‘doohickey’ while mentioning that he needs to expose your upper thigh for this.
“o-oh, i guess,” you stutter, gaze flickering down nervously.
“great,” he smiles before gently sliding the hem of the gown up his finger tips leaving goosebumps in their wake, making you snap a hand down onto your covered pussy to keep the gown in place with a gulp.
he simply smiles down at you, eyes eerily intense as he gives you a moment to hold the gown down with fluster.
“good, keep your hand there,” he says as if he was the one to suggest it.
he then gently wraps his hand around the back of your knee and lifts it to a bent position.
“how old are you, y/n?” he questions, obviously just making small talk considering he already knows your age from your intake form.
he then secures the cuff around the upper part of your thigh, brushing his cold hands against the cuff and, inadvertently, your surrounding skin, causing your thigh to clench briefly.
you clear your throat and blink, “i’m twenty- two.”
then he begins to pump the pressure cuff, making you slightly grimace at the pressure.
“i’m surprised you haven’t had an exam yet,” he voices, eyes on the meter with a respectful, gentle smile still on his face as he concentrates.
“oh, i just— get nervous, i guess.” you shrug as he stops pumping and squints his eyes at the meter.
“that’s unfortunate, it’s important to get annual checkups for prevention,” he says, slim eyes flickering at you briefly. he says it in a tone that clearly conveys his professional expertise, yet carries a hint of amusement, like a parent gently reminding their child about the importance of good behavior in public.
“i know, i’ll try to be better about it,” you say shyly as he begins to slowly pull off the cuff, making sure to briefly rub against the indents it created in your skin. you can’t help but inhale sharply at the feeling of his large warm hands basically massaging your upper thigh, so close to your most intimate areas.
“good, feel okay?” he asks with concern, referring to your upper thigh.
“mhm, totally fine,” you say, politely making him take his hand away from you.
he then makes his way to the cabinets in the corner and starts rummaging through it once again, seemingly looking for something.
your brows furrow as he sighs and makes his way back to your side, placing one large palm against the middle of your thigh.
“unfortunately, my silly nurse forgot to order the new medical grade stethoscopes so if it’s okay with you, i can use my hand. it’s probably more efficient this way anyways,” he asks you. his tone is so gentle and sweet that it’s just impossible to say no, after all what’s the harm, he’s a doctor.
“sure, whatever works,” you nod, making him smile in gratitude.
in a professional manner, he extends his hand and places it flat against the left side of your chest. his large hand covers most of the area, pressing down on your left breast, causing you to feel a surge of embarrassment and look away from his gaze. you glance at the door nervously as he presses into your breast slowly and with pressure. the act makes you feel as though you’re doing something wrong or taboo. if one of his nurses were to walk in right now, you wouldn’t know what to do.
he then hums in a conflicted manner after a moment, making your gaze flicker to his face in question.
“i can’t feel your heart through this pesky gown,” he sighs, making your heart rate immediately skyrocket at the insinuation. he seems to notice your nerves.
“oh, don’t worry, you can keep the gown on. i can just reach under if you’re comfortable with it? i’ll be quick,” he asks in a kind, professional way that makes you feel as though he’s genuine. still, you can’t help but feel hesitant.
“oh, i don’t— um— is it really necessary?” you ask nervously, chewing on the inside of your cheek with pinched brows.
“well, it’s important to make sure your heart is healthy and beating in a natural way,” he explains, kindly.
you fall silent, knowing that if he feels your heartbeat under the gown, his large hand is bound to directly touch your left breast. the thought is nerve-wracking—maybe in movies, this would be a fantasy scenario, but in real life, the idea of it is anything but romantic; it’s frightening.
“you know what? let me ask my nurse if we have any old stethoscopes,” he says after a few moments of your silence, attempting to comfort you.
you nod gently with a sigh in brief relief and he begins to walk to the door.
he peeks his head out and calls over his nurse.
“do we have any of our old stethoscopes in storage maybe?”
you can’t hear the nurses response but you can assume it’s not good news because doctor geto sighs, although he’s naturally soft in his demeanor and tone, you can tell he’s frustrated with his nurse.
“first not ordering the new ones in time and now this? at this point, i should just hire a monkey to do your job.”
his words shock you, you can’t help but feel sympathy for the nurse as they respond to him. in fact, you feel so guilty that you gulp before calling doctor geto’s name.
hearing your call, he turns to you with a kind smile.
“yes?”
“uhm actually— i change my mind. you can do it under the gown. it’s no big deal,” you stutter, wearing a face of faux nonchalance. in retrospect, maybe you should have held your ground and refused to let him do as he pleases, doctor or not, but it does seem a bit silly to care all that much about your breast when he’s going to be face to face with your pussy soon enough.
immediately, he blinks at you with raised brows in slight surprise.
“are you sure? i can try to find something else or—”
“—no, no. it’s really okay,” you interrupt him, adding a casual huff to add to your calm persona.
“oh great, i deeply apologize for the inconvenience,” he smiles at you, pinched brows in a slight pout as if he feels sympathy for you.
you nod and shrug as to wave off his apology.
then, he shuts the door, not even notifying his nurse before making his way back to hover over your side.
he then carefully and slowly slips his hand beneath your gown through the neckline. you shiver at his touch that trails to your left breast. his gaze is locked on nothing in particular in the distance, attempting to concentrate.
your brows twitch and your lips part slightly as he gently feels around the fat of your breast with his fingers, pressing into the area where he believes your heart is, searching for the spot where he can feel it most clearly. though you’re trying so hard to keep your heartbeat at a normal rate, your attempt seems to do the opposite, making it skyrocket. considering the anxiety of the uncomfortably bright room with a hot male gynecologist who’s hand is down your shirt, it’s not completely ridiculous that it’s a bit faster than normal.
you notice his addams’s apple bob when your nipple brushes against his cold finger. you on the other hand, can’t help but gasp shallowly and sharply, jolting a bit at the sensitivity.
“you okay?” he questions, as if he doesn’t even know why you reacted that way while your nipples rapidly begin to harden from the chilly friction.
“yeah- yes. of course,” you nervously jut out, attempting to take advantage of his ignorance to avoid the embarrassment and his gaze.
he hums before taking a few moments to push into a specific area of your breast to listen to your heartbeat and record the amount of beats per minute.
after a minute of silence, he hums. “are you nervous? your heart beat is quite high— 130 beats,” he questions with concern, allowing a moment for his hand to rest on your bare chest as if he’s attempting to comfort you before sliding it out.
“sorry, yes,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fact that your nipples are likely poking through the gown.
“hmm. though quite fast, i’d say your heart rate is perfectly normal. blood pressure is fine too,” he offers you a kind smile as he gently slides the extended part of the bed back in, leaving your calves and feet dangling over the edge once again.
next, he makes his way out of your sight, making you eye the annoying ceiling once again.
you fight the urge to sit up and see what he’s doing as you hear the roll of the wheeled chair, his footsteps, and the snap of latex gloves.
“have you removed your underwear?” he smoothly inquires, making you nod quickly and utter a ‘yes.’
“do you have a boyfriend, y/n?” he asks kindly, moving to stand in front of your legs now. it’s clear he’s trying to distract you in an effort to help you relax.
“boyfriend? no way,” you laugh, breathily but still quite nervous as he gently lays a gloved hand onto your outer thigh. you had barely had your first blind date the other day when this problem started, much less a boyfriend.
he lightly chuckles with you briefly. he assumes you had tried for a one night stand sort of arrangement when you ran into this little problem of yours.
“oh yeah? i’m going to put your feet into the stirrups now, okay? i apologize if it’s cold,” he voices, allowing a moment to wait for your nod before gently sliding his hand from your thigh down to wrap around your ankle. you appreciate his decency to vocalize before doing something.
you gulp as he carefully places your foot onto the stirrup, followed by the other foot. a sudden rush of cold air fans your warm folds, making you shiver as your gown rides up to your hip crease.
as he positions you, he moves to stand between your legs, and you feel the fabric of his long coat brush against the inner parts of your thighs. if he weren’t standing as close as he is, your exposed vagina would likely be quite visible to him. you can see him wearing a relaxed expression above you, watching you to ensure you’re comfortable.
he then taps the outside of your right thigh gently, causing a ripple of goosebumps to race down your leg.
“doing okay?” he asks, leaning in the smallest bit to better face you. his closeness causes you to stiffen in embarrassment.
“y-yes— mhm,” you nod quickly, attempting to fight off the heat that’s creeping up on your face and neck as you avoid his hovering gaze.
“i’m going to sit now,” he gently warns you, indicating that he will be face to face with your pussy once he sits down. you nod in acknowledgment, even though you realize he likely doesn’t see your response.
the rolling chair comes to a stop directly in front of you and as he takes a seat with a deep breath, you shut your eyes tightly and clench your fists by your side, aware that he can now see everything on full display.
“i’ll need to touch both externally and internally; is that alright with you?" he asks, prompting you to make a breathy sound in embarrassment, your eyes remaining closed in anxiety.
“oh, inside too? okay,” you gulp, stuttering over your words.
“just tell me if you’d like me to stop and i will, immediately.” he speaks professionally as he places one hand gently on the mid part of your inner thigh, the unexpected touch causing you to gasp quietly in shock despite his warnings.
“right, okay,” you exhale shakily as he moves his hand down your thigh. he then uses two fingers to gently separate your folds, exposing a glimpse of your entrance. you can only assume he trailed his hand from your thigh to your labia to considerately allow you to anticipate the touch.
“there we go, looks good so far,” he voices with lighthearted concentration. and even though you know he’s talking about your external genitalia looking healthy, his wording still makes you blush even harder— part of you assuming immediately that he means aesthetically. if the man between your legs wasn’t as attractive as he is, you likely wouldn’t react as you are.
“i’m going to press down on some areas and you tell me if it hurts, alright?”
then as soon as you mutter an affirmation, he releases your folds and gently presses two large fingers on your clit, forcing a jolt of electric arousal to briefly shoot through your body, making your thighs jerk a bit.
“d-doesn’t hurt,” you inform him as you make an effort to keep your legs open.
“great, and here?” he questions, moving his fingers down to press on the area just above your enterance opening.
your brows twitch, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to fight off the surge of heat running through you. a beat of silence ensues, attempting to calm yourself.
“uh no,” you quickly answer before your silence becomes suspicious.
you hadn’t anticipated feeling aroused during this process, especially with your friends’ accounts of the pain and discomfort from various metal contraptions that they shoved into them. however, doctor geto’s voice is undeniably soothing, not to mention he looks more like an idol than a doctor.
“excellent, and— here?” he asks again, this time pressing on the area between your pussy and your second hole.
it’s a bit uncomfortable, but you’re pretty sure that’s just because it’s an awkward area.
“no, not painful,” you explain, grimacing a bit at the feeling.
“not painful but-?” he questions, sensing your hesitance to explain further.
“um, it’s just uncomfortable. i’ve never been touched there, it feels weird,” you mutter quickly, humiliated to even admit that to him.
he huffs in a slight laugh, “okay, now i’m going to feel around your labia to feel for any abnormalities. just relax.”
immediately, you begin to blink rapidly with pinched brows as he runs two fingers through your folds, starting at your clit and sliding down to your entrance before swiping back up and repeating. with every slide of his fingers, your abdomen tightens and relaxes, while your toes curl and uncurl gently. your hips instinctively shift, responding softly to the sensations coursing through you.
“feel okay?” he asks considerately, in his cooing tone, only escalating your perversion, making you hesitantly pull your hand away from your mouth to respond.
“i-it feels g- fine, yes,” you breathe out, mentally cursing at yourself for almost admitting how good it feels.
you know this is an examination, but it’s the same type of stimulus that someone would use with the intention of pleasing you. it’s shockingly alluring and terribly taboo, making you feel equal parts shame and euphoria. you try desperately to think of anything gross or weird to turn off your rising arousal but it’s futile— maybe it would work if you weren’t so inexperienced, but you simply are.
he hums, long and soft as he continues to examine you with his large two middle fingers.
“this boy you were seeing,” he begins, barely working to pique your attention that’s glued to the way his cold gloved fingers feel against your folds, “was he able to bring you to climax with his fingers or anything else?”
your breathing deepens, eyes lidded in relaxation as you blink slowly, trying desperately to focus on answering your doctor.
“not really,” you pause to sigh deeply in relaxation, “he touched me over my panties but i didn’t cum or anything.”
your nervousness fades with each glide of his fingers, your attention shifting from the worry of saying the wrong thing to the sensations he creates. with each gentle drag, you find yourself speaking as if to a close friend, your walls crumbling as you become more absorbed in his touch.
his gaze is locked to your pretty lips, which are beginning to glisten like a flower kissed by morning dew as he brings your leaking arousal through them. he notices the way your clit is stiffening and twitching beneath his touch, a subtle sign that he should ignore. he should have moved on to the next part of the examination, but he can’t resist the allure of your hips instinctively rolling against his touch. he senses that you’re likely unaware of your own body’s response to grind against his fingers.
he emits a soft, displeased ‘tch’ at your answer, shaking his head as if disappointed in humanity.
“as your doctor, i advise being cautious with boys your age,” he speaks with a casual smoothness as you nod eagerly, eyes closed and teeth biting your lip, more a reaction to the escalating pleasure than to his words, your thoughts floating in blissful disarray. “unfortunately, they can cause some real harm to your body and lead to some serious issues.”
when you don’t answer, basically drooling in your own world, he speaks again.
“you want to ensure that your lovely anatomy remains in good health, don’t you?” he urges, his subtle compliment making your closed eyelids flutter as a tingle shoots through your lower abdomen, your back arching slightly.
you can’t tell if it’s just your imagination, but his fingers apply more pressure against the sensitive underside of your clit briefly as he speaks, sending a quick jolt of almost painful sensitivity coursing through you. it feels as though he’s intertwining his touch with the weight of his words, punishing you for your hesitation to respond and reminding you of the folly in even considering a fling with an immature guy.
you close your eyes tightly and quickly press a palm to your mouth as to not accidentally expose your perverted arousal growing impossible to ignore. the way he’s touching you so gently, its obvious he knows his way around pleasing a woman in his personal life— even if he’s simply feeling around for something potentially concerning.
“right,” you quickly babble stupidly through the muffling of your hand, “you’re right.”
it becomes painfully clear that you’re growing exceptionally wet because the squelching of your folds begins to echo loudly in the sterile room.
“it’s quite normal for your body to react to stimulus, if anything natural lubrication will aid in minimizing any potential discomfort,” he suddenly speaks on the elephant in the room, you think you can hear a hint of a smile in his tone, but you’re not certain enough to be sure. you were hoping he’d just ignore your growing wetness or even not notice it but it’s obviously too agonizingly obvious to ignore.
“i’m s-so sorry,” you mutter, mortified as you use both hands to cover your face as if that could make you disappear into them.
he chuckles deeply at your embarrassment, “it’s no problem, sweet girl. it’s normal, try to relax.”
his use of a pet name is obviously meant to ease your nerves but it only triples the amount of slick gushing out of you and being collected by his fingers to then coat your folds.
even if you wanted to respond, you don’t because you’re terrified that you’ll accidentally let a moan slip.
“i’m very glad to know lubrication isn’t the issue here, that can be quite frustrating for a patient— having to go on all kinds of pesky medications just to have sex,” he explains, and you’re barely even able to process his words so you simply hum with a frantic nod.
after a few more agonizing moments of his blissful touch, you sigh in relief and unclench your eyes when he finally halts and pulls his fingers away. saying its a relief that he halts his movements is an understatement because you’re pretty sure an orgasm was approaching in the distance if he continued the stimulus a little while longer— though you could never actually admit it to yourself.
“good news, i don’t feel anything unusual on the outside,” he gladly notifies you with a deep breath.
“o-oh that’s good,” you swallow hard, a heat creeping up your cheeks as his words hit home. you’ve been so caught up in primally chasing pleasure that you suddenly feel embarrassed for losing sight of the real reason you’re here: to make sure you’re healthy.
“i need to check internally now, which may cause some discomfort. i need you to take a deep breath and focus on my voice, okay?” he explains, a hint of sympathy in his gentle tone.
his words send your heart plummeting, the arousal quickly fading to the background as a wave of panic takes over. the thought of something unfamiliar or painful being inserted inside you becomes overwhelming, bringing back the humiliating memory of that guy’s frustrated expression when he couldn’t get his dick inside you.
“w-wait— what are you putting inside of me?” you stop him with urgency before he can even touch you again, sitting up on your elbows quickly to see, and you honestly wish you hadn’t because the sight of him between your spread thighs is horrifying and sexy all at once.
your fluster is obvious as he transfers his gaze from your pussy up to your worried face.
"it’ll just be my finger. i know this can be a bit scary," he says, placing a reassuring hand on your thigh, "—but it’s necessary for a proper diagnosis. I can’t promise it won’t be uncomfortable, but your natural lubrication should help. i’m glad we won’t need to use gel, it doesn’t work as well in reducing discomfort during insertion."
you gulp and blink at him with conflict. the idea that it might be painful scares you but the fact that it’s only his finger makes you feel a bit better. but now, not only are you worried about this process, arousal is sitting behind you, eagerly awaiting its turn for attention.
he examines your expression to make sure you’re okay, allowing you to gather the courage to speak.
“w-what if it won’t go in?” you question, timidly. you’re afraid of the possibility that even his finger won’t be able to push past your entrance like that guy, indicating that maybe something incurable is wrong with you instead of a condition that can be corrected.
he immediately smiles kindly at you with a soft sympathetic huff as his hand begins to rub comfortingly up and down your inner thigh. he feels so bad for you, a young, beautiful girl who’s obviously terrified of something being wrong with her body.
“i wouldn’t worry about that, i was already close to slipping into you before,” he coos, attempting to comfort you, making your eyes widen a bit. you think maybe you’re actually a raging pervert because his unintentionally lewd words make your chasm clench in need, forcing a bit of arousal to gush out of you, slowly begin to slide down to your other hole, and pool under you to inevitably drool down to the floor.
you inhale shakily and deeply before nodding.
“j-just go slow, please.”
he gently allows his sleek eyes to come close to shutting as he smiles at you with consideration and a short nod, but you don’t miss the way his jaw clenches with your words.
“if it helps, you can watch,” he offers, squeezing your thigh gently.
as you nod, he speaks again.
“here.” he raises his glistening, gloved fingers, then gently takes one of your hands and guides it to wrap around his thick middle finger.
“that’s all that will be inside of you,” he murmurs soothingly, his hand still gently holding yours, wrapped around his finger. “not too bad, right?”
the skin between your brows pinches momentarily as you look down at your hand enveloped by his. his finger is so long and thick compared to yours that half of it remains exposed, just beyond your grasp. you can’t tell how comforting that is in relation to the potential pain, but it certainly sends a flutter of butterflies through your lower abdomen.
“y-yeah,” you nod dumbly, “not too bad.”
he smiles and hums, gently taking his hands back to rest one back to your inner thigh while the other prepares to penetrate you.
“i’m just going to gently push past the tight ring of your entrance first, and then i’ll give you a moment to breathe, okay? stop me if it’s too uncomfortable.” his gaze flickers from you, down to your pussy in focus.
your breaths are shaky as you anticipate pain with an anxious pout. your sweet innocence makes his eyes soften as he gazes up at you.
“deep breath in,” he coos, making you breathe in deeply, “and out.”
the second you breathe out, he pushes his finger past your entrance quickly, keeping his eyes on your face as it contorts in a flinch. you gasp and stiffen at the stinging intrusion.
“shh, i know. on a scale of one to ten, how badly does it hurt?” he shushes you sweetly, keeping the tip of his finger unmoving in your chasm while his other hand rubs circles on your inner thigh.
“s-six,” you whine out, fists tight at your sides. the pain feels as though just the tip of his finger has cut open the bottom part of your opening.
“oh no,” he coos, making eye contact with your glistening eyes, “this might help.”
he then uses the hand on your thigh to gently rub circles into your clit, making your lips part as your eyes close in tandem with your brows raising softly in surprising comfort.
the way he moves against you now feels distinctly different from when he was simply examining your labia. his touch is more precise, focusing on the top sides of your clit, gently coaxing the hood to glide up and down instead of applying harsh pressure directly onto your clit. it’s as if he’s deliberately ensuring that each movement remains soothing rather than overwhelming, carefully avoiding any intensity that might tip into discomfort.
and it does help—more than just help, in fact. you can feel your core clenching with a growing yearning for more, pulling his finger in like a vacuum.
“better?” he inquires, still swiping at you as your thighs twitch and toes curl in the stirrups.
“t-that’s— fuck— i don’t kn—“ you whine, pathetically, unable to put your thoughts in order as he continues his work. he interrupts you with a cooing shush.
“good, it’s okay— shh, i’m going deeper now,” he briefly warns you before quickly pushing his middle finger in to the hilt, making you gasp loudly.
“o-ow— hurts,” you whine, opening your pouty eyes to see his low ones already on you.
“i know, i know. but you’re doing so good, sweet girl.” he soothes, quickening his pace on your clit to distract you.
“j-just hurry, please,” you grit out, biting back a moan as you watch him eye your pussy fluttering around his finger.
“of course. i’m gonna start moving and pressing down now. you’ll feel pressure, bare with me.” he explains, licking his lips as your arousal pools around his finger and drools onto the floor. geto is trying so hard to be professional but your virgin pussy is so tight and wet, as if it’s just inviting him in to play.
he then begins to move his finger within you, prodding against every one of your walls with exploration, likely a bit harder than he really has to, making you whine and jolt. when his finger pushes up against your top wall, your pussy clenches hard and you can’t help but let out a surprised whimper.
“so tight,” he breathes out to himself, astonished. it’s as if he didn’t know he said it out loud making your lidded gaze snap wide open at him with concern.
“w-what?” you ask, a flicker of concern washing over you as the possibility of having the condition he mentioned sinks in. what’s usually a compliment to most women feels more like an insult to you now.
his gaze immediately flickers up at you, a bit of surprise lacing his eyes that you actually heard him as he clears his throat.
“oh— nothing,” he chuckles, almost nervously, “you’re just a bit tight down here, it’s difficult to examine properly.”
“oh, you scared me,” your eyes soften and you sigh. he also sighs in relief but not for the same reasons.
“do me a favor and lay back for me,” he softly commands and you obey as you breathe deeply.
“i’m gonna try to open you up, stay down. do not get up unless i ask of you, okay?” he explains seriously, making your brows furrow.
“u-um why?” you ask, curiously.
“you’re much more open laying down. i’m about to push harder against your walls and i’m afraid it will hurt you if you sit up,” he explains, slightly breathy. you nod at the ceiling and gulp in preparation.
then, he takes his fingers off of your clit and replaces it with something warm and wet. and at the same time, he begins to move his finger inside of you, curling against your top wall harshly.
you gasp out in shock, gasp only turning into whiny cries as the wet thing on your clit begins to move against it. it almost feels like a tongue licking at your clit like an ice cream cone but you quickly shake your head of that idea; he’s a doctor, he’d never do such a thing. you wouldn’t know what a tongue feels like on your pussy anyways so you dumbly assume it’s one of their contraptions to help with penetration. and fuck, does it help.
still, you find yourself biting your bottom lip harshly as your hands softly hit against the bed under you in attempt to cope with the aggressive administrations to your insides. you wouldn’t be surprised if your lower tummy is twitching in a bulge, showing how vehemently he’s striking your top wall.
and when a shameful orgasm begins to approach with haste and you whine in panic as your back arches against your will.
“ngh!— stop! i’m— stop!” you plead, trying your best not to close your legs or sit up in fear of it being painful like he warned.
his movements halt abruptly at your begging, pulling the wet thing away from your clit and stopping so his finger is unmoving inside of you.
geto doesn’t need to ask what’s wrong, he knows how your body works and the signs of your approaching orgasm are more clear than most of the women he’s fucked.
“i’m so close to finding what i need, are you sure you’d like me to stop?” he inquires, voice deep and raspy. you aren’t entirely sure because of how aggressive his finger was moving inside of you before but it feels as though it’s still so subtly moving in and out of you, keeping your orgasm just teetering on the edge.
you’d rather die than admit you’re close to orgasm in a doctors office and in a paper dress with your feet in stirrups so instead, you make up an excuse.
“it just— hurts and—”
“but if we stop, i wont be able to diagnose you, y/n. are you okay leaving here today without knowing? i’d like to help you, but you need to let me,” he coos, almost impatiently. his words spark a bit of anxiety within you, making you feel as though it would be your fault if you don’t gain a proper exam.
you whine quietly, unable to decide. it’s so difficult to think with his digit still inside of you. you aren’t sure if you can even fend off an orgasm if you choose to keep going, but doctor geto’s words make you feel pressure to continue, for your health.
your whine in indecision makes him coo at you, “i know it’s scary— but your health is more important than your embarrassment.”
you know he’s right, though you think he doesn’t know that it’s more than just embarrassment holding you back, it’s more the fear of cumming all over him.
“how much longer?” you choke out, preparing to endure more.
if you were able to see the diabolical smile on geto’s face as you give in, you’d be running out of here and never coming back, maybe even leaving a bad review on yelp.
geto doesn’t behave this way; he never has. he’s always honored the vulnerability of his patients when they lie exposed on the exam table, maintaining an unwavering commitment to professionalism and respect. he understands the trust they place in him, and he’s never crossed that line before.
but with you, everything feels different. you’re not only an attractive young woman; you’re naive, so visibly nervous from the idea of him seeing and touching your most vulnerable spots, and it’s been clear from the second he entered the room that you’re attracted to him. he’s never had a patient so visibly affected by his touch, so sticky and wet, and it’s challenging him to uphold the composure he prides himself on.
“not too much longer; try to relax your body. you’re quite tense around me, but every time your muscles ease up, i get closer to collecting what i need for an accurate diagnosis.”
you curse at yourself mentally as you tap your fingers against the table, “i don’t really know how to make my muscles ‘ease up.’”
he hums, “that’s okay, i can help. what do you imagine when you masterbate?”
your eyes snap wide open at the ceiling and you flush in embarrassment.
“h-huh? what do you mean? why?”
“ah, i know. it seems odd but there’s a study that shows a woman’s vaginal muscles seem to become more flexible when imagining arousing scenarios or situations,” he chuckles, casually.
“oh,” you chirp, hands going to grip the sides of your gown into tight fists.
he allows a beat of silence so you can think on it, relishing in the way your pussy likes to hug his finger every now and then, like it’s begging to be pleased by him.
“i’ll try, you can keep going,” you timidly notify him.
“well, i can help if you’d like,” he says softly, “what do you usually imagine that arouses you the quickest? try to be as specific as you can.”
you swallow hard and shut your eyes, desperately trying to shield yourself from the humiliation of confessing something so intimate to your doctor, tricking your mind into believing it’s just a casual chat with friends like he said earlier.
“i think about,” you begin slowly, “a stranger, a man sitting beside me somewhere in public—”
as you speak, geto starts to slowly work his finger back up to a good pace, cock twitching painfully as your words begin to waver into a whine as he rubs against your g-spot.
“mhm,” he hums, urging you to continue, “and what does he do to you?”
“—he starts to touch me,” you gasp softly, fisting your gown as that wet thing starts to lap at your pulsing clit once more, “and he doesn’t even look— ngh— at me, he just shoves his hand into my panties and plays with me.”
“and what do you do?” he eggs you on, and perhaps if you weren't so caught up in the steadily building wave of pleasure, you might have noticed how when he speaks, that warm, wet sensation is momentarily lifted from your clit.
“i try to stop him by pulling at his arm but,” you let out a breathy moan as the wet thing starts to suckle on your clit, “—but there are so many people around and i don’t want them to know.”
“no, you can’t make it stop,” he coos in faux sympathy, as if roleplaying to further delve you into your fantasy. being so aroused at this point, you don’t even notice him slipping another finger in to join the assault on your guts. “but you can try.”
before you fully comprehend what’s happening, he guides one of your hands down, wrapping your fingers around the wrist of the hand that’s fucking inside you. it feels surreal, as if he’s weaving your fantasy into reality. the warmth of his contracting, veiny wrist contrasts with the coolness of the exam table.
“no, i can’t make it stop,” you repeat his words in a pathetic cry of pleasure, your orgasm approaching closer as his pace becomes violent and the wet thing around your clit start to flick at it abusively while latched on like lips suckling on a nipple. every ounce of shame you have transforms into a disturbingly taboo fuel, amplifying your pleasure in ways you never anticipated.
the only sound in the room are your moans and squelching, but you can feel a deep, rumbling groan reverberate against your clit as your grip on his wrist weakly attempts to pull him out like in your fantasy. before you have a chance to process what that means, your orgasm crashes over you, painting your vision white. embarrassing sounds of ecstasy escape your lips, tinged with desperation, as your nails dig into his wrist, leaving crescent moons in their wake.
your body convulses in a chaotic rhythm, alternating between curling inward and arching outward. each wave of pleasure sends soft involuntary jerks through you, leaving your abdomen taut and quivering.
“that’s it,” he coos against you, and you’re just so fucked stupid on his huge fingers stretching you out that the logic you’d use to deduce that his tongue and mouth is the contraption suckling at your clit evaporates as your high ensues.
as your cries and jerks begin to fade, your fingers loosen their grip on his wrist, and you take deep, shuddering breaths, gradually descending from your peak. he slows his fingers within, matching the retreat of your high, his touch now gentle as the waves of pleasure ebb away.
“you did so good, little one.” he finally withdraws his fingers, letting out a low hum of satisfaction as he brings his tongue to lie flat against your opening. with deliberate slowness, he licks up the sticky essence that escapes as his reward, savoring each rhythmic pulse from your hole. there’s an almost tender appreciation in his tongues caress as he feels your body instinctively attempt to draw in sperm with its contracting muscles. it’s a sight that stirs a primal urge within him, and he can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for your poor, empty pussy, yearning for that load of cum it so desperately seeks.
you hiss in a mix of pleasure and overstimulation, your hands flying to pull at his soft hair as he grows more fervent, his mouth devouring your lips with an almost primal intensity. it’s as if he’s an animal caught in a wild frenzy, intent on savoring every last drop of you, much like a creature would clean its mate after an intimate breeding. the warmth of his tongue and lips making out with your folds, tracing patterns, sends shockwaves through your body.
“o-ow!” you whine, though it’s more of a pathetic call of pleasure that’s just too intense to handle, “t-too much! doctor geto, please—”
it’s embarrassing, truly, that the call of his professional name is what finally snaps him out of his haze, retracting his mouth from your intimate parts that are now just swollen and irritated with stimulation, drooling a sticky mess onto the tile floor between his feet.
he clears his throat and wipes his mouth with his handkerchief as you let go of his now messy hair and fall back on the bed with deep breaths, eyebrows pinched in utter relief.
after a moment of silence, punctuated only by your labored breaths, he stands and fastens a button on his doctor's coat, striving to maintain a veneer of professionalism while discreetly concealing his raging hard on.
“you did um— very well, made my job much easier. you can sit up now,” he says gently as he softly pulls your legs from the stirrups to hang over the edge of the bed once again, a tint of sympathy in his tone after what he just did to a young, naive, sweet girl.
the way you muster all your remaining strength to sit up, trying to play it cool as if you hadn’t just cum as hard as you did —like he might not have noticed—is simply adorable.
“d-did you find out what i have?” you question weakly with a visible humiliation on your face, he can only imagine how much you’re beating yourself up for allowing yourself to cum as a doctor just simply does his ‘job.’
you gulps and takes a deep breath before peeling off his drenched gloves and tossing them into the bin in the corner and shoving his hands into his pockets as he faces you once again.
“yes,” he nods, “i know exactly what you have and before you get nervous, don’t worry. it’s curable with proper treatment.”
your eyes light up with hope, tinged with relaxation from the afterglow as your legs shake subtly in sensitivity.
“what is it?”
“well, it’s similar to the condition i told you about but this one is a bit different. your vagina needs proper training for a few months,” he explains with utter professionalism, as if the lower half of his face isn’t still wet with your juices.
“w-what kind of training?” you ask with a gulp, fingers fidgeting.
a/n. here she is the mermay fic that is finally done. yes it's a monster of a fic but i promise it's worth it,, i sWear i swear ♡ enjoy merman/shark iwa rearrange your guts
iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader
The glimmer of the sunlight casting down on the wide open ocean is enough to make you a bit dizzy, holding up a hand over your eyes in hopes of shutting out some of the brightness. It’s undeniably beautiful, and the soft rolling of the waves brings a chilly breeze over the otherwise sweltering deck of the boat. Droplets of sweat roll down your neck, making your sunscreen covered back a little more sticky than it needs to be— but that’s a minor inconvenience to pay for a day out on the water.
Is what you tell yourself, and others when they ask. Beside you, Tobio is gearing up, yanking up his wetsuit with a little bit too much intensity and focus when it sticks on his calf or wrinkles around his thigh.
The sight makes you snort despite yourself. It’s the kind of expression on his face he has when he’s overly excited, though the narrowed frown your way would probably scare some people away. “Here, let me help,” you jump in before he rips the seal-like, dense fabric. Again.
“Yeah,” the noiret grunts. You wrap your arm around his lower stomach for stability and reach your free hand down the leg of it, feeling Tobio tense up beneath your touch. An otherwise innocent touch— but still your own face goes a few degrees hotter. He’s staring down at you as you force your hand along the length of his thigh until you get to the problem area, wiggling the sticky fabric away from his skin with a bit of work. Your hair sticks to the sides of your face when the wind picks up, but you pray you don’t look too horrible when you meet his eyes.
“I’m gonna pull it,” you say, and Tobio’s eyes flick away from your face back to his own body, then nods. “‘Kay, here— goes.” With one hard pull at the fabric it slots up the few inches and pulls nice and snug to those phenomenal thighs of his. You slide your hand back out along the side and let out a little puff of air, then take a step back to wipe your hand over your forehead. You’re most definitely flushed, nose and ears an obvious shade of embarrassment. But you are… painfully obvious, after all. “Good?”
“Yeah, thank you,” Kageyama doesn’t quite turn to face you when he says it, instead choosing to jam his arms into the sleeves with just as much enthusiasm as before, but it sounds genuine.
“Ahem,” the lithe, annoyingly familiar voice to your side chants, “if ya don’t mind, lover boy. The rest of’us are ready when you are.” Atsumu’s got his arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow obnoxiously raised your way as you meet his look head on. There’s a short twitch of an amused smile that comes to his lips, before he sighs. “Yer’ gonna be okay up here, ain’t ya? ‘S not exactly the most fun of jobs, even if ‘a trust ya with ma life.” You nod, taking the softer look in his eyes of one of concern. Hidden under a lot of posturing and a lot of talk, but concern nevertheless. “Don’t get a heatstroke out ‘ere. We’ll be in for a little while, so drink some damn water.”
“I will, I will,” you roll your eyes, but the smile that comes to your lips is a genuine one, “thank you, ‘ma.”
He pointedly ignores your quip to help Osamu put on his oxygen, checking every tube and valve meticulously before they go. Bokkun, as always, is the first in the water, and you take a quick second to wave him out before undoing the rope around the railing and tossing the floaty down into the water for the big swimmer to grab. He says something that you miss when Osamu jumps the last bit of the ladder down, but the smile beaming on his cheeks is enough to settle you. “Have fun, guys!” you yell behind them, watching both Atsumu and Tsukki descend the ladder and get into the water.
Last up is Tobio, whose goggles and mouthpiece still dangle around his neck as he fixes the escaping bit of hair into his suit. “You sure you don’t wanna come with?” he asks, winding his arms around your lower back to pull you a little closer. “I mean, we can wait a little longer if you do. There’s plenty of gear down below, and we’re anchored. You don’t need to stay up here for our sake.” His little frown is pouty, and you’re quick to lean up and cup his cheeks. He has to dip down a little to allow you the comfort of reaching, as you lay a long kiss on his lips.
“I’m sure. You guys go have fun.” Your eyes go to his chest, then aside at the ropes of the ladder. He lingers a little longer, letting out a sigh and laying a kiss to the top of your head. “Bring me back something pretty.” You usher him along after the others, who in the meantime have connected the floaty to the weight a couple dozen feet away. A little far for your liking, but then again— keeping up with Bokuto when he’s on a roll is nigh impossible. The noiret sends you a thumbs up when in the water, and you wave him off with a small smile. It doesn’t take long before he’s reached the floater and resumes the last of the gearing up, then dives.
And then it’s just you. And the impossibly far stretch of the ocean as the bright midday sun gleams on its surface and glistens like a night sky full of stars. The warm waves and the salt bobbing peacefully against the ship belly, with the occasional hiccup or gurgle. You really do love it out here. The little alcove formed by the stacks of rocks is hidden in its shadow, running wind between the giant rocks where they stick out of the ocean strong and sturdy. In a hundred more years, these giants might have eroded away by wind and rain and the biting of its ocean footing.
But for now it is still your favorite diving spot, with the summer weather and the usually gentle pull of the ocean. Down below the surface, there’s a few underwater grottos, and a gorgeous stretch of land that used to be covered head to toe in coral reefs. Not so much anymore, sadly. Your last few years diving you’ve been more focused on the fauna— by necessity. The gentle bob of the waves against the hull of the ship calls to you, spattering into a million warm droplets.
It’s unfortunate. Your stomach still twists and turns at the idea of following them down, and you know that if you think about it too long, you’ll start to panic. And when you panic, your breathing goes short and hiccup-y and you get this awful urge to fight against your years-long collected knowledge; and that leaves you a useless addition to the team. Even just a few meters under had set you off last time. Left you sputtering and crying as you surfaced too quickly and your ears popped so hard you had to sit down for a while afterwards. It’s not fair, you think as you lay yourself down on the deck, legs still dangling off the side of the boat for the drops of cooler water.
How a single dive can ruin years of experience. But unfortunate and frustrating as it might be— you remember the darkness of the ocean. Night diving is always a bit of a gamble, that time hadn’t been a special occasion.
You remember being swept by an undercurrent, away from the guys, away from the lights. Remember your throat closing up when the water went a few degrees colder, the weight of the oxygen flasks on your back pulling you down despite your flippers working harder than normal. All scary, deafening— but then the yank. You’d never felt anything like that. Yanked a few meters deeper by a mean natured thing, the cold of it on your calf until you screamed around your mouthpiece and kicked toward your own leg.
The memory still gives you that tight feeling deep in your chest, that the ocean was victimizing you personally. You’d barely been able to force yourself to ascend slowly from the depths when you’d finally made it back towards the lights, shaking so badly Atsumu had to help you out of your gear after. Realistically, people die every day. Divers die being stupid, or reckless, or overconfident. The ocean doesn’t have a moral compass, after all. You don’t really want to become a number in a statistic.
But still, you long to join your friends again, to enjoy the perfect diving conditions to scuba around the familiar scenery yet again. You could spend hours for every day of the rest of your life and still never have enough.
You stretch out your arms above your head and let the sun warm up every fiber of you, glowing in the heat and the smell of salt winds that sticks in your nose and makes your hair a rough, coarse mess. It can only have been an octopus, you decided this only a few days after the incident, and you still believe it now. There’s a lot of them around the sandy ocean floor, hiding under rocks and nesting in the grottos from time to time, and while they are very strong, they’re not ill natured. It was an accident, you know this. So really, there’s nothing holding you from going back in. At least to splash around a little until the others return.
The time ticks by fast when you’re focused on the wind and the heat of the sun, lulled by the gentle tilt of the boat back and forth. Your feet a bit colder, toes stretching out towards nothing.
You sit up, pop the top off of your flask and down a few good gulps of water, then peer down into the water a couple feet away from you. The water closest to the stacked stone is only a good 10 meters deep, slowly dropping off the further you get away. Not even enough to truly hurt yourself if you do panic, though you’d rather avoid another incident. It rolls and bubbles under your feet, a clear, iridescent color that foams white. And you let out another wistful sigh, until your breathing hitches.
There’s a dark form that flicks through the water and under your boat, too fast to identify— all you see is that it’s big. Longer than the types of dolphins that come here. The ocean floor remains mostly undisturbed, but you suddenly jerk forward as the boat gets bumped from the other side. Your hand wraps around the railing while you stare, watching that same animal dart through under the water edge, tail whipping up a serious splash as the boat jerks again. You almost slip off the deck with the force of it. You’ve never seen any dolphin bump a boat this way either, you think in a fit of anxiety, sweaty palm wrapping tighter around the cool metal.
Your mind races with thoughts as you try to make note of what you saw, looking over at the floaty. It’s not nearly far enough not to come in contact with it if it’s aggressive, though the rapidness of the movements stay around the belly of your boat. The tail is the only thing you can really see because of the reflections on the water, but the pointy angles and fins don’t remind you of anything other than— You take a sharp breath. You do get sharks here from time to time, but Grey Reefs are small and gentle. In all your years diving you’ve never seen one this big— or aggressive.
And none of the guys are wearing chain protection suits in the first place, because there were no sharks reported in the area. You try to focus your eyes on catching where the shape should be moving down below, but the ocean floor is suddenly awfully vacant. And the wind picks up too, turning the boat further from the anchor point. Before you get the chance to climb down the ladder and switch on the red LEDs of the floaty, another bump jerks you off balance and you clamp your hand down around the rope ladder so hard it burns your fingers. You keep going down though, barefoot and in only your bathing suit as you get closer to the end of the ladder.
But the rope of the floaty isn’t there. Now, Bokuto is a carefree diver at the best of times, but you’ve never seen him forget to tie the rope in such a way that it stays connected to your boat. You panic. Despite all your experience, you get an awful case of cold sweat as your feet stand on the last step on the ladder and get kissed by the water, as you try to spot the floaty from your position. And sure enough, only a few feet out from the boat, the end of the rope bobs on the water surface as if taunting you. The ‘surfacing’ button is only a little further down the rope.
Your chest tightens as you look down below, at the aquamarine color and the soft weave of the waves around your toes. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. You’ve swam with sharks before. This isn’t just about your fear anymore now. Someone could get hurt if you don’t make sure they keep their eyes peeled. You take a deep breath and disconnect one hand from the ladder so you can aim your body towards the end of the rope, before sucking up all your courage to make a nice dive into the water.
Your body enters elegantly, barely splashing. The ocean feels a lot colder than you know it to be after sunbathing, gurgling around your ears as you force a few long paddles forward, then peek your head up. Your aim was a little off, but with a bit more reaching you can will yourself to focus only on the rope. It bobs temptingly just out of reach on each new wave. The water sucks a few degrees of your heat straight off of you, and your muscles are a bit sore, but your smooth technique is well worth it.
You manage to grab on, holding tight around the gritty texture as you paddle back towards the boat with your free arm. A tug stops you. Soft at first, you only notice your leeway is gone when the rope pulls down hard and fast towards the ocean floor and the burn of the rope leaving your palm is enough to have you flinching back. Instead of managing it back with the rope, you’re scared into swimming the other way when the dark shape appears back around the belly of your boat— you drag yourself instead to one of the low outcrops that surface just above the water edge. You’re shaking, your breath heaving wildly as you push yourself out of the water and onto the painfully sharp rocks on your knees.
You hack up some water you must’ve downed from the scare, before sitting down in the little sliver of sun to cast a cursory glance at your palm. There’s a few definite scratches deep enough to pull blood from the plasticized end of the rope, that now sting viciously from the salty water. More pressing is the subject of your panic though, as it lingers half hidden under your boat, only the bottom fin visible from your position. Though it certainly isn’t an ideal situation, you’re at least glad it’s staying by the boat. Visible to you means out of the way for the guys, and your heart rate— though still elevated, calms a little.
That panicked urge came up again, a thought that annoys you a bit too much as you spit onto the wound to at least wash some of the salt out of it. Your water bottle is still on deck, so you’ll have to wait until your new ‘friend’ loses interest. But the animal doesn’t budge even a little, staying right in place and course correcting with an easy whip of the strong tail. You have to admit— begrudging as you are— that there’s something slightly amusing about watching an animal twice your size just … sit under your boat like it’s taking a break in its shade.
“Thanks, jerkface,” you mumble towards the unmoving animal, though your mouth pulls up with a soft smile. The boat makes another noise when the creature bumps against it like the wave that splashes into tiny droplets again.
You can’t help but chuckle when you see some bubbles roll up along the hull and surface with a soft ‘pop’, pushing yourself up from your seated position. You should take a walk while you wait, let the movement keep you warm. The bit of stone you dragged yourself onto isn’t exactly big, but it curves into one of the bigger stacks where the gritty terrain creates a little cave. A soft splashing calls your attention back on the boat. And the absence of the previously tired shadow below it.
Salt water washes up over your feet as you sweep the area around your plateau for its shape, finding the ocean floor equally undisturbed. However normal all if this should feel on any other day, your skin stands on end, like an uncomfortable itch to run. As the wind drops, so does the twisting of your boat with the current. You drop your eyes to the far edge of your outcrop to study each rock as you think, only to go rigid. Your entire spine locks, toes digging into the stone. The top half of a face is surfaced above the water edge, as the man hides himself right up against your rock.
You stare, wide eyed and waiting— for recognition, maybe; or any explanation whatsoever. The guy doesn’t look familiar though. He doesn’t speak, but lingers just enough out of the water to keep his eyes on you, unblinking. It’s such a weird behavior that you’re not even sure what the hell to say, settling on a pitched “Wh— Sorry? I -what are you doing?!”
The man doesn’t respond, or move, and you can feel your anger rising above your concern. “This isn’t funny. You scared the shit out of me.” And then after a few seconds of pause, you point your thumb vaguely towards your friends. “We have a permit.” His eyes are sharp and angular and stunningly shiny, a pretty sort of watery green. You think you’d be able to appreciate it more if he wasn’t so damn creepy.
“... Dude, we’re allowed to dive here. Please just—” you swallow, thinking better of picking a fight. The guy is still between you and your getaway after all. “I can move the boat if you’re bothered.” Still no response. He barely seems to understand you’re even talking to him at all, and you take a few steps closer to get a good look.
It doesn’t… help. Your eyes go wide as you stare at the man— well… What seemed to be a man at first glance, doesn’t look anywhere near as normal as you really take it in. More accurate would be to call it a something. The creature bops unmoving in the water, not taking a breath, not blinking either. His hair colors a dark grey at the spiky ends, coarse with the salt water, and the skin around his jaw and cheeks is distinctly more grey too. It doesn’t move when you shuffle back a few steps, though it does seem to follow you with its eyes. Then sinks a few inches into the water to wet himself again, and back above the water.
You’re… floored. You didn’t notice any signs of dehydration, or of hitting your head— but then what the fuck are you looking at. It doesn’t make any sense at all, and you cast your eyes back at the spot where your friends dove a while ago, before turning back. The creature only takes his eyes off you a split second to follow your gaze, then goes back to staring. A deep sense of childlike curiosity washes over you the longer you stare. You’re unable to help it. You crouch down like you’d approach a stray cat, and shuffle a bit closer. Far enough to feel safe, but just close enough to take in every miniscule change on its face. “Hi.” There’s a dumb, long pause; before you point at yourself and say your name.
A few times for good measure. “I’m… I’m a friend.” As soon as you say that, though the creature doesn’t show so much as an ounce of understanding, he darts forward a few feet along the rock’s edge and closes half the distance between you in a blink. It scares you enough to fall back onto your ass with a yelp, hissing at the sting of the sharp rocks digging into your skin. The creature’s eyes are wide as he dips under the water edge basically instantly, his hiss ringing through your ears as you remain frozen for a few breaths. He moves so fucking fast. It’s a little terrifying really. The sound of bubbles is all that remains, before you allow yourself to peak a little closer to the edge again. His head is sunk about a foot under the water, but slowly comes up again when you stay in place to watch him surface.
Awfully close, only a good two feet away from your face. Too close for your liking. You give a little smile, then slowly sit back onto your heels. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” Even if he would, you somehow doubt he’d tell you this honestly, watching how a large wave washes over him and he carries on without blinking. The chill of the stone below you makes you shiver, teeth clacking. Only when you blow out a tense breath, unsure of how to proceed, the creature forces himself up a little higher out of the water with a leverage you don’t really understand.
It’s only now you really see the stark differences. Though anyone would be forgiven mistaking him from a distance, as close as you are, you can see the dark grey and lighter bellied pattern start to appear along his shoulders. Under the full head of hair, you can now see that where your ears sit, his are obviously absent, and the sides of his throat have gashes that open and close a few times, twitching against the cold wind. “Wow,” you can’t help letting your mouth drop open at this alien-like sight, looking both very human and distinctly separate.
Whatever curiosity that had sparked the creature to come up to watch you in the first place seems to get the better of him, leaning into the rock edge and pulling one clawed hand out of the water to rest it on the gritty surface. His fingers are a greyish blue, and have black, predatory nails only on the three first fingers; silvery membrane stuck between each digit. A hand that’s ever so slowly slid your way until his index finger bumps up against your knee and you’re too anxious to move a muscle. He taps the fatty pad of his finger along your knee with the tiniest movements known to man, as if testing you out, then slowly rests his hand over your knee.
You’re not sure why, but the touch is surprisingly comforting— maybe as a stark difference between the rush of adrenaline you had just minutes earlier. He, in turn, seems absolutely fascinated by your skin, poking and feeling and letting his cold fingers roam around the area. It gives you goosebumps. He looks up at you every few seconds as if to check for your reaction, before pulling back entirely and dipping back under the water surface. “Hey, wait!” you crawl forward to watch as he lingers at the rock edge, before floating back up. This time letting his entire body float up, and splashing his giant tail for good measure.
“What’s up?” You suck your bottom lip into your mouth. He floats easily, clearly very muscular torso flowing down into an equally ripped tail. It’s huge, with the same shark-like coloring going down all the way to the white tip of his fin. When you don’t move, he seems to raise an eyebrow your way, a reaction so strangely human you can’t help but huff out a laugh. He moves his tail again, throwing some water over your thighs in the process— as if encouraging you to touch in return.
“O-oh,” you struggle to come up with anything to say, “I’ll be gentle. Don’t… freak out.” However strange, the exploration seems entirely led by the creature instead of you. Your fingers brush over the colder, wet surface of his tail with just as much consideration as he had for you. It’s nowhere near as squishy as it looks, consisting of stacked muscle upon cartilage — you can feel as he flexes below your hand. He also has claspers, that you pointedly ignore to study the rest of him, but you’re glad your assessment was correct. Male it is.
You cast a glance back to his face, but he retains the same unbothered look as you slide down to feel his fins at the very end of his tail. “Your tail is very pretty,” you coo, and his fin moves to splash up a few droplets of water onto your skin.
At the very least, the sound of your voice seems to please him. He shakes you off to push his tail back under himself, flicking it a few times, before coming to hang back over the rock. Maybe with the confidence of your previous successful touch, you dare reach out your hand to his arm too, along the slightly coarser skin there. It feels a little like very fine sand, and seems to tickle him as he lets out a purring sound that can only remind you of a cat. “Can I see your gills?”
He tilts his head aside when you motion to his neck, understanding; you slide your fingers along his shoulder to the base of his neck. The narrow slits open and close automatically, and he jerks when you brush a finger over them. They’re much softer than the rest of the body, a wet, spongy sort of feeling that has you pulling back quickly. “Sorry! Sorry.” He blows some air through his nose in response, before wetting himself again under the water edge and coming back up. “You can’t stay out for too long, can you?”
No answer, of course. But you’re satisfied with the way he hasn’t left yet, and shift your legs to sit down more comfortably. Now exposing your feet, the creature only takes a second to snatch out and yank your ankle towards his face with one hand, going a little more light-handed when you yelp. He makes a clicking sound and pauses, which you take as an apology before he continues. His other hand pinches at your toes, moving them around with thinly veiled interest. His gills open and close rapidly for a few times, before he pulls your ankle again.
And again, and again, until you follow along and let the —merman— glide you down into the water, hooking your elbows onto the rock to stay afloat. He dips under your body to really inspect you, pushing and pulling your legs separately. Infinitely intrigued with your legs, he squeezes your shin where the bone sits closest to the skin and knocks it for good measure. Then he surfaces with what you can only describe as the start of a grin, exposing a row of sharp, shimmering teeth. You smile back, though it puts a definite pool of fear back into your stomach when he swims up close and starts picking at the straps of your bathing suit.
“Yes, my legs are pretty nice, huh? I,” you swat his hand away from the loop to shiver at the way he bumps his tail against your legs, “need my bathing suit though. No touching.” His clicking noises ring over the soft roll of the waves. You wish you could understand what he was saying. “You’re talkative all of a sudden.” Your laugh isn’t returned, but he seems to perk up at it anyway. The foreign sounds continue as you study the rest of his face, where little freckles sit on his nose bridge, and how large his pupils really are. He seems to notice your staring, because he grows quiet, and his brows go up like a begging puppy. The tip of his fin brushes along your shin, causing you another little shiver. And then, just as fast as you can blink, he sinks back under and disappears off into the water’s depths like it’s the easiest thing.
When you make a move to get out of the water, a harsh grasp around your ankle has you freezing up, ignoring the way sharp nails trail up the side of your body. The merman surfaces with a huff, blowing salt water towards you and you frown. But then he curls up a little closer, and you appreciate the way the rubbing of his skin feels like a warm spark on yours. He leans in to sniff at the side of your face and neck, then sinking down to your collarbones, and rubs his face against you in a stubborn sort of bumping motion.
His rough exploration with his hands soon grows a little too close for comfort to the lower half. “You got something you’re looking for?” you breathe out, turning aside a little to avoid the way his lips brush along your jaw and under your ear, hanging on with a tremor growing from the cold. He doesn’t seem to notice— or at the very least, care, and picks a nail under the leg of your bathing suit with curiosity. “Stop that, that’s mine. Mine,” you try to laugh off the heat starting to make itself obvious on your face, and ignore his narrowing eyes to softly push his hand away from you.
Something the merman doesn’t seem to appreciate much, because his tail wraps around you in a second and he turns you to face the rock side instead, swimming up behind you to trail fingers along the base of your neck. It’s awfully intimate, even when under the veil of innocent exploration. His claws drag along the veins in your neck where your cold body is pressed up against yours. He maneuvers you around to urge your hips back and up, letting out a frustrated rumble when you sink back under. “I don’t know what you want me to do,” you bite back. You watch as he dips back down and twirls around a few times underneath you, lifting your legs up and open to inspect. Before you can even think about your current position, he swims between your legs and pushes his face in between your thighs.
Your face feels like it’s on fire as you splutter and swallow. “F— Hey, h-” You shove your hand onto the top of his head to push him back down, but he doesn’t even budge, your fingers tangling into his coarse mess of hair as he grabs your thigh tight. “Hey!” You’re too embarrassed to look down as he pushes his nose against your pelvic area through your bathing suit— you want to chalk it up to just curiosity, but the sheer proximity is enough to make your stomach flip. For a second you swear you can feel what must be a tongue rub along the fabric, before you’re struggling off of his shoulders with a glow so hot it’s probably coloring your entire face. “O-okay, that’s mine too. So enough. That’s enough.”
The merman surfaces with a funny look on his face, somewhere between confusion and anger at being denied, when you push yourself out of the water and back onto your safe, little rock. He swims in a circle a few times, splashing your legs with a giant scoop of water, before placing his chin on the rock. And you force the frown off your face. “Guess you wouldn’t exactly understand me already being taken.” You reach out to scratch under his jaw until the purring noise comes back. You suppose it only makes sense he can’t speak English, but getting some questions answered would be really nice right about now.
“Hey, can you dive deep?” you mumble as he cracks open one eye to look at you, just to fill some of the silence. “This place has a ton of octopi this time of year, but I haven’t been able to go down to see any. Octopus.” You draw a little shape of an octopus in the air, then mimic it swimming with your hand and point at the water. “Did you see an octopus?” Though you’re sure it’s too hard to express what you’re trying to express in hand gestures, the merman does seem to take an attempt at figuring out what you’re saying.
Then he clicks his tongue, dives under with another hard flick of his tail and disappears from your view along the ocean floor just as quickly. A little bit of hopeful curiosity snuffs out at the sight, wringing your hands together. You suppose it lasted much longer than you could ever have asked for anyway, poking your feet into the water again to swing them back and forth. The sun on your skin is still nice as you take a few seconds to collect yourself, brush some hair out of your face and ignore the heat in your stomach. Right when you slide yourself back into the water to get back onto the boat, the dark shape whizzes along the ocean floor.
He blows out a soft huff when breaking through the surface, and swims up so close you’re chest to chest. Again. His thick tail curls around you to keep you both above the water, before he pulls up a clawed hand to show off the thing in his hand. Which you quickly recognize to be an octopus, poor little arms clinging hard onto his hand and spewing ink. “Oh my god.” He shoves it towards you as you squeak. “No, don’t give it to me! What am I supposed to do with it?” You barely catch the octopus when he tosses it, quickly setting it free. The thing darts off towards the open sea within an instant, and the merman hisses, before looking back at you with a frown.
Then he’s back under, chasing down the poor thing. When he surfaces again, he shoves you straight out the water onto your rocky platform, then launches the octopus onto it too. You feel awful watching it writhe, but are a bit more surprised by how easily you’d just been tossed out the water. You let him get onto the rock with you, and grab the octopus to hand it back to you. You’re almost in tears when you smile at him, shaking your head. “I don’t— I don’t want this. I really don’t.” A few more clicks come from him when you yet again try to release the octopus, hissing in protest. But you still carefully put the poor animal back, and wash off the ink sticking to your hands as it swims away.
Your merman is staring at you with disbelief, mouth corners pulled up in a half-snarl. “It’s okay!” you coo though, “thank you. That’s very sweet.” You sit a bit closer in case he attempts to chase it down again, and pet a hand down his chest. Which seems to douse the fire in his eyes enough to relax, looking between your face and your body a few times. His gentle purring continues when you don’t move your touch away. “I don’t eat live animals. But… I a-appreciate— the gesture. And,” you struggle to continue watching the glint of razor sharp teeth when he cracks his lips open, “you’re… you’re clearly a great hunter.”
When you try to place some distance between your bodies, he lifts his tail and pats it on the wet ground, before moving the length of it over your legs. “Hey,” you quickly say, swallowing the rest of your words when he moves over you more, face to face. His long lashes are awfully distracting so close, mouth hanging open a sliver to show you a peek of a pale, pink tongue. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was about to kiss you.
“I’m taken,” you mumble, averting your eyes and pulling your hands to your chest for good measure.
Whatever he understands that to mean makes him growl, low and possessive. He says something you don’t understand, then growls again. His hand comes to pet your shoulder, running his nails through the baby hair at the base of your head a few times. It snags every few seconds, makes you hiss and moan too. And it makes him grin. Even worse, it sends an embarrassing amount of heat to your cunt, grimacing when you feel your pussy get slick. The earlier touching and now the press of his muscular body over yours is leaving you a mess.
His hand pushes against your thigh, twitching hard, which has your eyebrows pulling tight. You go pale when you look down. What you assumed to be his hand was something else completely, moving around against your thigh with a sticky sheen being rubbed on your skin. The claspers you’d earlier seen to identify him as male, are swollen and extended, and he’s basically rubbing them against your hip like he’s grinding his cocks into you. His tail is heavy enough to keep you in place under him, and his crawled hand is slid along your side when the purring continues. “Oh, fuck,” you mouth, “oh fuck.” Trying to slip out from under him makes him let out a mean growl, mouth corners lifting to show his canines.
“I’m already taken,” you quickly whisper under him again, placing a hand on his shoulder as your eyes dart all around his face, “please get off. You— I- I’m flattered, really. But you should find yourself,” the growl turns into a hiss when you push at him, “a nice mer lady!” When you get one leg from under the heavy press of his tail he snaps his jaw and clamps his hand tight around your arm, laying down on top of you. His head is nuzzled— or forced— into the crook of your throat and his hips buck against you. “I can’t,” you squeak, shivering under his huge body.
He doesn’t care. The two cocks squirm against your belly, making you feel gross in every single way. Once again you try to push him away with a sad ‘no’, but this time the merman hisses and shows his teeth in a display that even you know to be aggressive. The blunt heads twitch and curl against you in a way that feels so foreign and uncomfortable that your lungs are folding in onto themselves, with only the fabric of your bathing suit that sits in the way. The man’s eyes, despite the brilliant color of them, are narrowed and uncaring. And you understand then, that he —it— has absolutely no intention of letting your begging sway him.
The impatient clawing at your thighs is painful, course skin rubbing against yours. You’ve never thought of yourself as delicate before, but pressed under the huge —absurdly so— creature, you find yourself crying. For yourself, and what you know will happen. It makes your skin break out into a cold sweat, adrenaline pumping under you as his heavy tail twitches over you, and he tries to pull you closer in a way that sends a splitting pain down your spine.
It’s only instinct to get away. Your eyes shut and you slam your elbow forward into his throat, kicking and wiggling until his grip loosens with a surprised noise, and you scramble up shaking. If you had more time to stop and think, maybe you’d think twice about rushing over to the edge of your little platform. But you only hear your mind scream to run! get away, and so you jump. Off the rocks into the coldness of the water, feeling the clack of the pressure on your ears and head, you wildly paddle yourself back to the surface and towards the blurry shape of the boat.
Your muscles are achy from the change in temperature, head fuzzy. And there’s this awful, rapid pumping of a heartbeat that should feel familiar, but doesn’t at all. You pull your arm out of the water and drag it through as hard and best you can, making a decent dent in the distance separating you from safety. But it’s not enough. If you’d been able to think twice, you would’ve known it not to be enough. The hand is back before you can so much as brace yourself, deathly tight as it wraps around your ankle and you’re yanked down. You take a stuttered gulp of air before being pulled under into the chilly cold again, and though you thrash wildly, you can’t see anything with the push of the wave on your skull.
When the tail wraps back around you, you open your eyes despite the salty water, trying and failing to shove at his shoulder before your arm is caught too. Your heart bangs so violently against your ribs you’re scared it might pop out through the skin. But you can’t really think, because your eyes shut against the pain of the salt, filling into your nose, clacking your ears. Your head flops forward as the merman drags you through the water; and it hurts. Your lungs hurt. Your eyes hurt. The panicked feeling screaming between your ears hurts, and without anything else to do, you open your mouth and scream.
What little sound reaches your own ears gives way for the water to fill your mouth up, the gross, unbearable taste of the ocean water now drowning you. You’re drowning. You’re drowning.
And then you’re shoved so violently back onto the ledge that you don’t feel yourself land until the water is pushed from your lungs with the force of it, and you’re gasping and thrashing around on the stone now. You gag against the salt as spit drips out your mouth and the rushing sound of water leaves your skull for a calmer blurbing, leaving you catching your pitiful breath where you try to push yourself back until your back hits a wall. Tears are pooling in and streaming down over your cheeks in full hiccupy weeps— can’t help it. But as you rub and rub until the stinging goes away, you come back to yourself just enough to realize something.
It’s significantly darker and quieter than it was. You look around through your teary eyes, finding yourself stuck in a cave. The water at your toes is the only source of light you’re allowed, every other escape showing you only stone and moss. Wherever the creature took you… it isn’t a place you’ve ever been diving. And— you glance up to the middle of the pool that laps ever so calmly at your feet now. The merman’s eyes are glowing a glittering blue, vigilantly staring at you from just above the water edge where you can see his tail flick around elegantly under the water.
“D-don’t,” you try, only to grab at your throat when only a pitiful squeak comes out, swallowing a few times. “Don’t come closer. Don’t- d-don’t come.” Your shaking hand isn’t much of a shield. The merman’s clicking noise comes back in an equally forceful manner, as he swims all the way to the end of the pool and then back. Still glowering at you. When you don’t move, he swims a little closer, letting the soft brabble of the water carry him towards you. But this time you push yourself up onto your feet and kick at the water, and hiss back. “Go away! Leave me alone!”
“Leave me alone,” you squeak pitifully, and rub your hands along your arms, and glare back. He doesn’t, though you don’t expect him to. But now you’re fucked. You can’t go into the water without the merman grabbing you, not that you’re in much of a hurry to try again anyway, and you can’t get out any other way. The realization gives way to a wobbly lip and a whiny sob from somewhere in your body, as you sit back down with your face twisted into tears, wrapping your arms around your knees.
The merman doesn’t flinch when you glare at him, only peers those creepy eyes back at you. “Go! Go away! What the hell is wrong with you, I-I mean—” Your voice rises automatically, stress bleeding out into your waterfall of words like there's no stopping it. “I’m not even of your kind! Why the hell did you take me here, w-why did —You don’t even— I… You!” Your train of words leaves you when the sound of moving water sounds again, and ever so slowly, the merman starts dragging himself up the ledge.
It’s not big, barely enough for two people to lie together, and with the chance of sliding down into the water. And he’s big. You swallow and look away when he’s still hard —harder even, maybe— and try your very best to ignore the scooching and shuffling sound as he slowly drags his long tail out of the water and gets closer and closer. The merman purrs when he’s pressed against you again, wide chest pressing against your shoulder, and his head slowly nudges against your ear. It’s gross, and you hate him, hate how his hand trails up the inside of your thigh. How he sticks his tongue out and licks along the shell of your ear.
But you can’t help but shiver, a sad squeak breaking free from your throat when he purrs louder and louder each second he’s touching you. His tail slaps the wet ground with a satisfied sigh when he moves over you more and you resign yourself to laying down on the cold, damp floor. But you can’t help it. You have no other place to go, nowhere left to flee. The mere thought of trying to run away again is enough to have your stomach flip like you’ll throw up. You cry when the merman starts nosing hungrily down your neck, licking, dragging razor sharp teeth along the heartbeat.
He lays himself half on top of you, until you can feel the squirming dicks start to reach for your center again. They flop around and move as if with a mind of their own, a nasty sort of display that makes you want to gag again— so you cling to his shoulders instead. Whatever thoughts the creature has running through his mind, it doesn’t show clearly on his face. But you want to look away from his gaze nevertheless, ignoring the revenant way he watches your face twist with every crass touch. When his hands tire of exploring, the merman moves aside a little to shove you further up the rock, almost bumping your head against the wall in the process.
Your thighs are shoved apart, one leg hauled over his arm to get it out of the way. But your thoughts are so still, so awfully quiet. He stares for an uncomfortable amount of time as he leans down to sniffle around the area— and really, that’s probably the worst part. Because despite everything, how much you hate this, hate him, want to kick and scream and pull at his hair until he leaves you the hell alone, you’re still getting wetter. You can feel the heat between your legs, soaking into your bikini bottoms and coating your puffy pussy in glistening slick. It doesn’t take too long for the man to figure out that your bottoms can be pushes aside, to reveal your cunt.
And you suppose he says something, because he stares up at your face with a weirdly calculating expression. “Shut the hell up,” you grunt under your breath despite his silence, hating the —it feels like amusement that’s radiating off of him when he dips a finger into your wetness with a slow growl, and you turn your head to the top of the cave. There’s some shuffling, before he is back over you, and this time you hold the way your throat bobs as he wraps a free hand around it. Doesn’t squeeze, but the weight of his arm alone is enough to have you gasping, tears beading back past your lashes.
Then he shuffles some more, and his fingers are pulled away from your pussy to slot them curiously into his mouth. Aquamarine eyes roll back into his skull when he closes his lips around them, and both of your breathing seems to speed up. You, for his reaction, him; to rip your other leg to slot around his waist as he nudges his cocks against your clenching pussy. His dick is colder than your body, making your tummy flutter as he presses all his weight into you and the glossy head of his cock pops inside. Stretching you wide. Your eyes shoot open as you dig your nails into him. He looks absolutely feral.
The thin ring of blue is all that is left from blown eyes pupils, big and black and terrifying. But it’s the low growling noise followed by the way he leans down to suck the crook of your neck, right below his hand that really scares you. Because his breathing is so erratic, and his hips still haven’t moved. Your own voice comes out like a small child being chastised, when you tremble under him. You don’t want him to move. But you want even less to be speared onto his dick all at once. “Go slowly. Slowly,” you beg, moving to thread your fingers through his hair trying to coach something back.
But whatever it is you try to communicate is completely lost when he seems to break his trace and the dick starts squirming inside its very tight clutch, and he suddenly pushes your head out the way. His teeth clamp down hard and fast on your neck, ripping a sharp whine from you that dies within seconds. The coat of blood you feel running down your shoulder is sticky and burning, and you trash against him. But the moving of his cock continues, like a snake curling inside your dripping pussy. And before the head even starts pushing against your cervix, your other hole is starting to receive its own needy press.
“Ohh- g-god, oh please,” you breathe out, hiccuping and whining and moaning all at once. “Please, fuck—” It’s so tight. Your entire lower half feels like it’s being stretched so wide you should fight, but you’re trembling in pleasure anyway. Your ass is filled with the same impatient motion of his second cock, both twirling and prodding against your walls, and your head snaps back. Your body wound like a spring. You don’t get to think about your orgasm before it’s hitting you full force and knocking the breath out of you, your pussy clenching and gushing around the intrusion.
Your legs shake even when he lets go of your throat to heave his upper body over you again, and starts bucking into you. Relentlessly, with his sharp nails gidding into your thigh and his heavy body sliding you up and down on the floor with each thrust, as his tongue rubs along the skin of your wound. You think you’re crying, but you’re also half aware of the desperate, whining noise you’re making as he fucks your holes so deeply your eyes cross automatically. Your toes curling where your legs are wrapped around his waist, totally unaware of the wrecked way you’re drooling and curling against him.
The loud sound of skin meeting skin each time he bottoms out and fucks you, you feel full— so full it’s a different kind of whole-ness. You’re clawing at his back, ignoring the way he hisses when you accidentally touch the small fin along his spine or how he’s gone hovering himself over your body to stare at your face, and run a thumb over your lips. Every impulse is too much. The way his chest rubs against your oversensitive tits, how his cocks seem to find the exact spot inside you to have the air forced out of your lungs. The black swimming in the center of your vision.
“I can’t, I’m-” You feel him so deep you feel like you’re choking on it, and so you absolutely miss the way your teary babbling makes a grin pull at the corners of his mouth. That wicked mouth chooses the worst time to descend and swallow your noises with a greedy lapping into your trembling lips, when he pushes his tail under himself more to raise the both of you off of the ground. The angle of his cocks sliding in and out of your sloppy, messy pussy changes even deeper if at all possible, mixing with your panting and moaning for the most slurred swearing.
As you feel the weight of him bump your clit and his rough skin stimulates it just right, you bite your own bottom lip so hard you start to taste copper— and you cum again. But the second shudders your entire body even more, hanging onto his neck as he huffs and sighs into your neck and the rhythm becomes unbearable to you. You want to stop, yet your limbs are welded shut against him— cumming so hard your mind seems to reset for a moment. The merman doesn’t stop, and continues to wildly chase his own orgasm as he pounds into you.
Heavy weight of his body meeting yours, he seems to clench every single muscle in his overly strong body. His nails dig into the stone next to your head hard enough to make tracks, before he shudders and shoots ropes of hot cum inside your holes. You can feel as it fills your stomach, filling you up with so much heat it feels a bit sickening. You’re entirely worn when you let yourself drop back onto the cold floor that’s now become a few degrees warmer, and cry out a long wail of exhaustion. Every part of your private area is completely covered in the mess of your mixed wetness, leaving you in an uncomfortable, sticky puddle when he pulls out.
And speaks to you with that low voice you have no chance of understanding, rubbing his knuckle along your cheeks in a gesture that should feel comforting. But you’re in pain, every inch of your body feels like it’s been bruised— and you squeeze your eyes shut and ignore everything. You ignore the way he pulls himself off of you, how he manhandles you around to lick at your cunt for a few moments, and how the water gurgles at the edge of the ledge when he slips back inside. You wrap your arms around yourself as you wait, and hope for your heartbeat to come back to you.
But you can’t possibly ignore when he swims around the pool a few times, before trailing a finger along your thigh down. Or how he stops, clears his throat with an awfully sore sounding huff, and speaks. Speaks, making your eyes shoot open to look right at him. It’s totally unpracticed and gruff as it fills the small cave-in, but he lifts a brow and grins wide and animal-like. It sends icy shivers down your spine.
“Mine.”
That’s how the beast disappears under the water edge, leaving you used on the floor of a dim cave, with no other way out.
A/N: Thank you so much for the commission! This was very interesting to write, a very fun concept. For everyone else, this is filthy, 5k of pure filth. Enjoy!
Request: Essentially I’d like the plot to be with a trans masc human character sort of stuck in these monster infested woods. To get out of it, he travels this path and sleeps with a few (1-3 varieties) monsters and essentially gets bred by them (no actual pregnancy just fucked real good. You can do eggs if you want). I’d like for there to be some knotting if possible, if not that’s fine. The main thing I want to happen is this dude getting fisted by the pale man from pans labyrinth. Literally just do what you want with the rest. If there are more creatures that is. And I’d like for the character to be enjoying himself with this, I don’t want any serious dub con.
Quest to ecstasy
Monsters (werewolf, gator-monster, pale man) x transmasc!reader || dom/sub (light), oral sex, knotting, breeding, oviposition, fisting, dirty talk (kinda)
When the fortune teller said you had to complete a quest if you wanted to be fully yourself, you didn’t believe them. But after what felt like an eternity in search of something missing, something inside of you that didn’t feel quite right… You started to comprehend it wasn’t just a riddle.
You really needed to complete some kind of quest for you to feel completely settled into your body.
That’s how you found yourself back into the forest. Back into that deep, dark place where the witch lived. You had packed for a few days, not knowing what exactly you were signing yourself to, but ready to find whatever it was out there for you.
What awaited for you wasn’t the witch, though. When you set a foot inside the tree line, a weird orange creature appeared from thin air. Their looks were so weird you screamed, falling back and tripping. You ended up with your ass on the ground and a single tear running down your cheek. The creature looked at you with their head tilted, clearly confused.
“You came to my realm in search of something… Why?” The creature in front of you was looking more and more weird which each second, and it was messing with your brain. They awoke the uncanny valley inside of your brain and made you shiver.
“I- I want to complete the quest.”
“You do? Interesting.” With each movement it made you cringe a bit more, trying to disappear to not be scrutinized by them. “I wasn’t expecting you until a couple more years… Guess you are an early case. Okay human…”
You hesitated before asking: “Will you… Will you tell me what I have to do? What I’m looking for?” They approached you, and you stepped back, scared that they were going to attack you or something.
“Fear not, human. I will not hurt you. You just need to pay close attention to your quest.” You nodded, the fear not really leaving your body, too tense to even talk. They approached you and touched your forehead. A warm feeling filled your body as they said: “You need to reach deep within you, deep within the woods, only then you’ll find the answer to your need.”
“Can you be more precise?” You were confused, that didn’t mean absolutely nothing to you. You needed answers, not more riddles.
“No. You’ll find out on your own. Good luck.” And they disappeared. They disappeared and left you there, confused and with a dark forest before you.
Before you could hesitate and back down, you stepped into the forest.
You walked for what felt like hours, until you could barely see anything and your feet hurt. You sat on a rock, gulping down some water and panting, your body sore.
A voice behind you made you jump. “What do we have here? A handsome human…” You looked at him and stared. He was furry. Tall and muscular and… like a werewolf. There was a fucking werewolf in front of you, and he was so hot you felt like melting right there. “Are you lost?” He asked. You shook your head, unable to talk. “What are you looking for then, boy?”
You breathed hard, trying to get your rabbit-fast heart under control. He made you nervous and excited all at once, something inside of you jumping in joy. “I- I’m here to complete a quest,” you muttered. You weren’t expecting to find anyone so early, but you knew without a doubt that he was the one you were looking for. The first part of your quest.
He grunted in acknowledgment and asked: “What kind of quest?” He sat down in front of you.
You looked at him, eye to eye now that he was on the ground. “I have no idea. They- the creature didn’t tell me.” You felt stupid, but he was so hot your brain couldn’t process long sentences anymore.
He smelled the air, ignoring your words and instead saying: “You smell delicious, like a fresh pie.” He approached you on hands and knees until he was right before you, his snout close to your legs. “What is that smell… Is that your desire human, do you desire me?” He parted your legs without preamble and smelled your already dripping cunt under your pants. Fuck, why was that so hot?
“I- I- Maybe…” You told him, it sounded more like a question that an affirmation and he chuckled. You were confused by this development. You didn’t know what to tell him, you only knew you felt your cunt dripping and desire pooling lower. You wanted to grab his head and make him do it again, but embarrassment stopped you.
He looked up at you, his eyes so big and with a hint of danger behind them… That made you whimper. “Maybe?” He asked again, smelling the air once again and grunting in pleasure.
You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yes. I do,” you confessed. Your face was burning, but your desire was burning higher than the embarrassment. The heat inside of you was almost unbearable, you needed something. You needed him to do something to you. And if he didn’t… You didn’t know what would happen, but you knew it wouldn’t be good.
“Do you want us to fuck?” He asked, looking at you almost hopeful.
“I- I don’t know.” You did know, but the embarrassment and self-consciousness got the best of you once again. You cursed yourself in your brain over and over.
He looked at you disapprovingly. “You need to say what you want, boy. I don’t read minds… But I can smell your desire, you are ready like a ripe fruit. You want this, don’t you?” His words made you hotter, juices soaking your undergarments. Fuck, you didn’t remember being this ready like… ever.
“Ye- yes.” That answer left you without thinking about it, but it felt like something inside of you released. Something left your body and ascended, and you felt lighter.
He looked up at your face again, something hot and dark dancing behind his eyes. “Tell me what do you want me to do to you, then. Be specific.” You breathed hard, your heart accelerating once again.
You tried to filter your thoughts, too fast and too messy to get anything across. But then you just knew what you wanted, something inside of you telling exactly what you had to say, “I- I want you to eat me out. I want you to make me come with your mouth.” You felt your body burning as he started lowering your pants, exposing your undergarments to his prying eyes. He licked his lips when he saw the wet patch there.
“Yes… Good boy.” You felt your face flush at his words. He took your undergarments off, too, slowly lowering them until they were neatly stacked over your pants.
He planted his hands on your inner thighs, breathing hard against your center, but not touching you just yet. “What else?” He urged, his hands tightening. You were sure that was going to leave bruises. Fuck, that thought was so hot.
You kept going, your words getting stuck in your throat, but you pushed through. “I- I want your mouth over my hole. Over my holes…” You never had asked anybody to rim you before, and now it just… felt right. “I want you to eat all of me, to take me over the edge over and over.” You told him. With each word, your body felt lighter and your cunt wetter. His tongue traced patterns over your your hip and making you shiver.
“Keep going…” His mouth was dangerously close to where you needed him most, but he didn’t touch you.
Then you breathed out, “I want your tongue inside me, I want your claws holding my hips down so you can stop my frantic motions.” That confession was a bit too much for your frantic brain, but you got it out without an itch, a special part inside of you telling you it was okay. He would understand, he would deliver. “And then I want you to fuck me, to breed me.”
He smirked up at you, his fangs glistening. The image was enough to make you whimper. “Yes, yes. I can do that.” And then he launched.
The first contact of his tongue against your cunt made you shiver. His claws were right over your hips, holding your body down as he made out with your hole until you were dripping. But he didn’t stop there, he kept going down, licking over your asshole and making your eyes roll back into your head. You had never felt such a good tongue, such a good mouth. Every experience you had before him paled in comparison to his abandon.
He ate you out, sucking, licking, going up and down… His tongue and lips seemed to be everywhere at once, and you were struggling under him, trying to get him closer, trying to make him move. Your hands found his head and you pulled at his hair, making him grunt and attack your pussy with fervor. You did it again and he growled, so you did it again. It became a game, you pulled at his hair and he sucked on your most sensitive parts. It was the best oral you’d ever gotten, and he was enjoying himself even more than you if the sounds he was making were any indication.
“Such good holes, so beautiful, so soft and wet for me.” His words against your skin felt like thunder before a storm, and when he drove right in, your body exploded. You came around his mouth and soaked most of his face, he complimented you over and over as you came down. He looked at you with the biggest smirk on his face as you recovered. “You want more?”
You were about to say you couldn’t when he stood up and drove his dick right into you. His dick was so big, but you were so wet from his previous assault to your hole. He fucked you hard and fast, with abandon. You came once, twice, three more times.
“Are you ready to take my knot?” You nodded, lost in pleasure.
You felt his knot at your entrance as he pushed inside one more time, stretching you to the point of distress but the pleasure overtook it. You struggled under him as his knot filled you to the brim. He came, and came, and came… He bred you until you felt so full you felt like exploding, just to grind his hips against you and made you come again.
By the time he was done, your hole was gaping and his cum was leaking out of you. His smug smile was so big he looked like a madman. You wanted to smack him, but also wanted to kiss him senseless until he couldn’t smile anymore. So you did just that. You made out for a few minutes as your heat regained its normal pace and he slowly cleaned you out with some warm cloth you didn’t know where he got from.
His dreamy look made you blush as he said, “you did great, boy. The next part won’t be so easy on you.” A spark of anxiety bloomed inside of you, but his hand caressed your cheek softly as you relaxed once again. “You have to go to the river and find the one whose eggs they crave.” His words were weird but you nodded, already assuming he wasn’t going to tell you anything else.
Your cunt was a bit sore as you walked. The directions the werewolf gave you too imprecise to know where you were really headed to. But you kept walking. If the first part of the quest was finished and you found it on your own, you trusted the universe to point you in the right direction.
After a couple hours, you found the river. You walked alongside it, expecting whatever part of the quest to appear before you or at least some kind of signal. And it definitely did.
A big scaled monster was exiting the water like an alligator. He was walking on two feet, but his arms and legs were covered in scales. His face was elongated, pointy fangs on each side of his mouth. He looked dangerous and scary, but the second he saw you, he cheerfully said: “Hi there! Are you the human the witch sent?” He sounded hopeful and excited to see you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at him.
“She- She told you?” You asked. You haven’t talked to the witch at all, but if you got here, you guessed he was right, she sent you to him.
He nodded, his elongated face bobbing up and down and making him look adorable as he smiled. “She said she would help my family, and then I see you next to my river… So I guessed.” That made sense, but how would you help if you didn’t even know why you were there?
“What do you mean she would help your family, how would I do that?” You questioned, as confused as him.
He nodded, looking you up and down and saying: “You’ll be the recipient.”
“Recipient? For what?” You tried not to sound too panicked, but probably failed.
“My family…” He cleared his throat, a raspy sound exiting his mouth as his voice broke. “My family needs money, and our eggs sell for a better price if they touch a human first.” He said it was if that meant something to you, which it didn’t. You were as confused as earlier.
“What does that mean?” You asked again.
He hesitated for a few seconds before answering you, “I- I need you to take my eggs and then lay them for me.” Eggs? How would you do that? Was he supposed to get the eggs inside of you? That… That made sense. His hopeful smile was enough to convince you it was the right thing to do.
But an idea crossed your mind, “Will it hurt?” You were okay with oviposition, but pain wasn’t really your thing.
He smiled, already knowing you’d say yes. “No, human. It won’t. They say it’s quite pleasurable, actually.” His smirk made your insides turn and heat pooled in your lower abdomen.
“Okay… Okay. I’ll do it.” You agreed.
Before you could realize, you were naked and he was over you, his claws pinching your nipples and telling you how pretty you were, how handsome and how good you’d look with his eggs inside of you. You shivered, his words making you hot and bothered, your cunt already dripping.
You felt his dick against your hole before he started to press inside, he wasn’t as big as the werewolf, but the texture of his dick was doing marvels to your insides. It was like the best toy you’d ever tried, maybe even better. He started slow, asking how you were, how you liked it. With each pump of his hips, his scales rubbed perfectly against your sensitive parts, making you cry out. You were drunk on pleasure already, his ridges massaging your G-spot with every thrust.
He gained speed, fucking in and out of you like a madman and growling at each thrust. And then he came for the first time, and something stretched you. There was something going up his dick and inside of you. The sensation was another level of weird, but it felt incredibly inside of you. So good that you screamed and came around him. That threw him off, coming again and filling you with another egg.
You felt big, your stomach distended as they pushed deep inside of you one last time. You didn’t know how many orgasms he had, how many you had… You didn’t know how many eggs he laid inside of you… but it was so good.
You came again at the same time you heard him say, “good job, human… You got them all.” He pulled out of your gaping hole and smiled down at you, helping you accommodate against his chest.
His words confused you, but the pleasure was so great you had to take two deep breaths before answering. “Wha- what?”
He chuckled, like you were a silly goose for asking that. Your brain still was fuzzy with pleasure. “Now we wait.” He hugged you closely.
You pushed his chest. “What?! What do you mean we wait? You didn’t say we had to wait!” You looked down and saw it, your stomach distended, not too big, but definitely something was inside there.
“The eggs will be ready soon, then you have to push them out and they’ll be ready.” His voice was even and controlled, his smile so big you couldn’t be mad at him for not telling you it won’t be an immediate process. Fuck, it would be easier if he wasn’t cute.
So you waited. He feed you some fish he caught, and covered you with a blanket as you felt the eggs move and twist inside of you. It was so weird, but not bad.
You felt a big pinch in your lower back, not painful, but weird. And then something slimy ran down your leg. “I think- I think they are ready,” you told him, panic settling on you momentarily. You took your blanket away and looked between your legs. And so did he.
You pushed down, trying to get them out as soon as possible. You were expecting more weirdness, but definitely you weren’t expecting the blinding pleasure that filled you when the first egg left your body. You felt it all the way down, slowly, pressing and stretching you from the inside out. You screamed as an orgasm ran through you. And then another as the second egg descended.
You came one time for each egg he laid, about ten. It was exhilarating and left your body feeling like a rag. So tired and so exhausted after so much pleasure… It was like your body didn’t respond to your commands, but it was such a great feeling you couldn’t be mad about it.
The gator-monster was looking at you with adoration in his eyes as he took all the eggs you just pushed out of your cunt. He kept saying “thank you, thank you, thank you…” as he carefully packed them into what looked like a basket.
He took a warm cloth and cleaned your hole carefully, applying some kind of balm that made you sigh with relief, the soreness instantly fading. “I could never thank you enough human… But for now, I can point you to the final part of your quest.” You nodded, grateful. “You have to cross the river and find the cave with the door.” You took mental note of his words. River. Cave with a door. “You got it?” He asked.
You stood up, pulling your pants up with you, covering yourself. “Yes. Yeah, I got it.” You took your bag and stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say to him.
“I wish you the best, human.” His voice was truthful, and you smiled at him, after so many orgasms he felt like an old-friend more than a stranger.
“I hope those eggs sell for a good price.” You chuckled as you said it, completely confused about what all that was about but happy you could give him something.
“They will!” His grin was so big you wanted to laugh about how goofy he looked. His voice became soft again, “good luck, human.”
“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling a bit sad about leaving him, but ready to see what the quest still had for you.
He saw you leave with still unsteady legs, excited and thankful for what just happened. It was nothing like you expected, but it was rewarding in a way you had never felt before. You gave him something he needed, and it felt good. It felt great.
You walked away from him and crossed the river, a new energy in each step. You were tired and sore, but felt so content you couldn’t express it in words. You smiled at the little animals that crossed your path as you walked, life felt good in that moment. And you were so close…
You saw the big cave with the door, just as the gator predicted. You walked to it and found the door already open, a weird creature moving around. You stood there, mesmerized.
The creature in front of you was nothing sort of human, he looked alien-like, otherworldly. You were completely mesmerized by his movements and the way his body undulated as he moved. There was something about him that made your insides turn and twist. The things the witch said were true, you would know when you fount the final part of your quest. You know it was him.
He turned around and you had to swallow a scream. The creature had no eyes, just a pale empty face that twisted to the side when he realized you were there.
And then he raised his hands and you saw his eyes right there, in the middle of his palms. Nothing could have prevented you to scream then, not even a gag. You screamed at the top of your lungs, and he looked at you more intently, moving his fingers and making your panic raise, but also something else, something deeper.
Your insides twisted and turned and you could feel your hole getting wet once again. Everyone could have guessed it was too much, too difficult for you to get aroused again… But the mix of fear and arousal was once again making your undergarments sticky.
You got your breathing under control as he said: “You are here for a reason.” His curiosity for you was clear in his body, moving closer to you until his tall figure was so close you could feel his body heat. He smelled like pines and forest, but also like freedom, like the key to your freedom. “Are you ready for your final quest?” His question sounded ominous and you didn’t know if you were, but you were more than ready to find out, your cunt twitching in anticipation.
You looked at his eyes, still in front of his head, and told him stuttering: “Ye- yes.” He nodded and pointed to a mattress on the side of the room.
“Hand and knees, facing the wall…” You complied, a shiver of anticipation running down your spine as you felt his pointy fingers caressing the back of your thighs. “Such a pretty hole… So ready for me. Did they fuck you, human? Did the others had their fun with you?” You nodded, shy all of sudden. The idea that he could still see the evidence of the other two monster’s inside of you made you embarrassed, but also excited. You moaned, trying to hide your face in the pelt under you. “None of that, human. Face up, I want to hear every single noise you make.” You rose your head and looked at the wall, not knowing what he was going to do to you was exhilarating.
The first contact of his finger against your cunt made you shiver and push your ass back, trying to get him inside instantly. He growled and pinched your ass, making you scream, startled. “Ouch!”
“Behave. You had no control here, human.” You lowered your head, your face burning red with embarrassment.
He started a slow finger fucking, way too little. You needed more, you wanted more. But he already told you, you had no control over what happened, over what he did. You were there to complete your quest and he would do what he pleased, what it needed to be done. And apparently that was finger fuck you at such a slow pace that was making you crazy and desperate, even more needy.
You tried to push back again, and were rewarded with another pinch. Fuck. “You need to learn patience,” he told you. But he added another finger, and you sighed happily. Yes. Yes. More was good, more was great.
The gator-monster had already stretched you enough, you knew you could take a lot more than two of his fingers, but he didn’t fuck you harder nor faster. He took his time with you. He started slow, one finger in and out of your used hole. You moaned and groaned, asking for more. Pleading for more. He didn’t comply, he kept teasing your pleasure points with his long fingers until you were sweating and your legs were trembling under you, barely supporting your weight.
When your arms gave out and you face planted to the mattress, only then he added a second finger. He continued that slow torture that was making you drool and lose your mind second by second. You cried out when he pressed against your G-spot and started massaging it. It was amazing and the worst torture at the same time.
“Please, please, please…” You kept chanting, but he didn’t listen.
“Patience, human.” His completely calm voice annoyed you, but the annoyance was soon replaced by a new wave of pleasure as he added a third finger. You couldn’t even imagine how did it look for him, his eye so close to your center.
In and out, in and out. He pushed another finger inside. The fourth was already a stretch, at least the same size of the werewolf dick, but with so much more range of movement. He scissored them inside, opening you up, tickling your insides, reaching parts of you didn’t know existed. Your pleasure was so high you couldn’t stop screaming, a chorus of ah ah ah leaving your mouth at every movement of his fingers inside of you.
And then you felt his fifth finger slipping inside, the stretch so awesome you felt a gush of juices dripping out of your hole. He grunted and asked you to breathe, but it was almost impossible with the assault to your senses.
When he pushed in his knuckles, and then his whole fist, you screamed, coming around his hand and making him groan behind you. His knuckles were pressing against your G-spot so hard you felt like you could implode into a million pieces. It was the highest you’d ever gotten to the sky. It felt too much and nothing at all, it felt like the universe was at arms reach but you couldn’t move to touch it.
“You are doing amazing, human. Come for me again.” You wanted to tell him it was too much, but your body had a mind of their own and it complied. You came again. He was fucking you with his whole fist, half of his forearm inside of you at some point. Your brain was completely off-line. “Again,” he ordered. And you were unable to stop the next orgasm.
You felt stretched to the extreme, so much and so good you couldn’t stop moving your ass back, meeting his thrusts. You were acting nothing like yourself, or at least the self you were before the quest. Maybe this was the discovery. Maybe you needed to understand yourself better, to realize you needed more, needed so much more… And he gave it to you. He gave everything to you.
He fisted you for what felt like hours, making you come over and over until you were begging for him to stop. He didn’t. He kept going until you were a mess and the pleasure and pain were one big sensation inside of you. At some point it became too much and you fainted. You woke up with him still going at it, your cunt still stretched around his hand and your pleasure too high for you to come again. You didn’t think you could come again anytime soon.
But he proved you wrong.
He made you come at least three more times before your brain faded into darkness again, something inside of you breaking down. You felt it. You felt that something opening and leaving your body as a feeling of completely elation filled you.
Ecstasy.
And then darkness.
When you woke up, he was already there, looking at you with his weird hand-eyes. “You are ready to leave, human… I’ll walk you to the clearing.” He had already cleaned you and re-dressed you, all your stuff piled next to your bag. You packed everything rapidly, not wanting to make him wait for you.
He accompanied you to the entrance of the forest, right where you began your journey and waved his weird hands at you as he returned to the forest. You felt revitalized. Not a single sore muscle in you. You stood there for a long time, the sun rising behind you and setting shadows around you. The world felt different around you, brighter.
You learned to take your pleasure. You learned to give to others. And you learned to let go of your inhibitions. Maybe the witch was right, maybe the creature, too… You needed the quest, you needed to go through all that to realize you weren’t some kind of weird person for expressing your needs, for taking them into your own or for making it so others could meet them. You… You felt full of life.
For the first time ever you felt complete and okay in your own skin.
Remember you can also commission me, all info here.
I cannot emphasize this enough as a practical life skill: learn how to say no to authority figures. Learn how to tell them that nothing they can do to you will change your mind. Disappoint your parents. You have to live your own life.
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