Kinktober -7 "Shibari"
TW: nsfw, smut, fem!reader, porn with minimal plot, bratty reader, dominant Aizawa loses his cool, 7.6k words
DESCRIPTION: You have been dating Aizawa for quite a while now, so you knew EXACTLY how to push his buttons.. But this time, you went too far, so he had no choice but to put you back into your place.
You couldn't help but grin mischievously as you watched Aizawa try to catch a few precious moments of shut-eye during a rare lull in the day's training. The strict, stoic instructor sat on the sidelines, his back resting against a tree and his eyes half-lidded in a futile attempt to block out the chaos of the training ground. However, your amusement quickly turned to determination as you decided that you wouldn't let him relax for even a moment, not when you had his attention and affection.
With a spring in your step and a gleam in your eye, you sauntered over to where Aizawa was attempting to nap, your hips swaying with each step. As you approached, you noticed how his dark, messy hair fell across his face, partially obscuring his sharp, angular features. The sight only spurred you on, eager to break through his outward apathy and expose the deeply caring man beneath.
"Aizawa-sensei, look!" you exclaimed, crouching down beside him and waving a hand in front of his face. "I think I've almost got the hang of this move you taught me earlier. Wanna see?" You batted your eyelashes at him, your voice taking on a slightly breathless quality as you gazed at him with open adoration.
Aizawa's eyes flickered open, his gaze sharpening as he took in your eager expression. For a moment, he seemed torn between his desire to maintain his stoic facade and the temptation to indulge your request. But as he looked into your eyes, he could see the genuine excitement and anticipation shining there, and he found himself unable to resist.
"Very well," Aizawa sighed, his voice still tinged with a hint of weariness despite his agreement. "Show me what you've learned." He pushed himself to his feet, his lean, muscular frame unfolding with a grace that belied his apparent laziness.
Not content to let him stand there with his arms crossed and his expression impassive, you reached out and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. You felt a thrill at the contact, your heart fluttering in your chest as you gazed up at him with a wide, expectant smile.
"Like this, right?" you asked, demonstrating the move you'd been practicing. You made sure to press yourself against Aizawa as you moved, your body brushing against his in a way that sent sparks of electricity dancing across your skin.
Aizawa's eyes widened slightly, a faint flush rising to his pale cheeks as he felt the soft curves of your body mold against the hard planes of his own. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure even as you tugged on his hand, urging him to mirror your actions.
"Not quite," Aizawa murmured, his free hand coming up to grasp your waist, his fingers splaying across the small of your back. "You need to keep your center of gravity lower, your stance more stable."
As he spoke, he guided your body with his own, his hips pressing against yours as he demonstrated the proper form. You felt your breath catch in your throat, your skin tingling with the proximity of his touch. Emboldened by the contact, you pressed yourself even closer, your breasts cushioning against his chest as you gazed up at him with a coy smile.
"And what about this?" you murmured, tilting your head to the side and baring the smooth column of your throat. "Is this okay, sensei?"
Aizawa's gaze flicked to your exposed neck, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed hard. For a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself, his desire to maintain his professional demeanor warring with the temptation to lean down and press his lips to the soft, inviting skin of your throat.
"It's... adequate," Aizawa murmured, his voice a low, rough rasp. His hand tightened on your waist, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hip as he fought to maintain control. "But you need to keep your guard up, always be ready for your opponent's next move."
You shivered at the intensity in his voice, a thrill running down your spine at the thought of being the object of his focus, his concentration. Emboldened, you reached up with your free hand and brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead, your fingers lingering on the sharp, angular line of his jaw.
"And what if I don't want to keep my guard up, sensei?" you whispered, your lips curving in a playful smile. "What if I want to let my guard down, just for a little while?"
Aizawa's eyes darkened, his gaze intensifying as he looked down at you. For a moment, you thought he might push you away, might insist on maintaining the strict boundaries between student and teacher. But instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured:
"Be careful what you wish for, little hero."
Aizawa sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Your relentless antics were starting to take their toll, chipping away at the carefully constructed facade of apathy and disinterest he worked so hard to maintain. But as he lowered his hand and fixed you with a look that was equal parts exasperated and fond, you could see the glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes, the slight upturn of his lips that betrayed his true feelings.
"Listen, you..." Aizawa began, his voice a low, gruff murmur. He paused, seeming to search for the right words, before continuing with a hint of a sigh. "I've told you before, it's not appropriate for you to call me 'sensei' anymore. Not when we're... when we have this arrangement."
He gestured vaguely between the two of you, as if trying to encompass the unspoken bond that had grown between you since you started dating. It was a subtle motion, barely perceptible, but to you, it spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings, the intensity of his emotions.
Aizawa's gaze flicked away, his jaw clenching slightly as if he was struggling with some internal conflict. When he looked back at you, his expression had softened, his eyes warming with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.
"I know I can't stop you from being... persistent." Aizawa's lips twitched, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "But at the very least, could you try to be a little more discreet? A bit more... subtle?"
He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a feather-light caress. The touch was fleeting, gone almost before you could register it, but it sent a shiver down your spine all the same.
You couldn't help but grin, your eyes sparkling with mischief and barely suppressed glee as you gazed up at him. "Aizawa-sensei," you singsonged, drawing out the syllables of his name in a way that was deliberately provocative. "I thought we agreed, it's just Aizawa now. At least, when we're alone like this."
You pressed yourself against him, your body molding to the hard planes of his own as you gazed up at him with a coy, playful smile. Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers playing with the neckline of his shirt in a way that was clearly flirtatious and teasing.
"Besides," you murmured, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "I kind of like the way it sounds. The way it rolls off my tongue." You punctuated your words with a soft, breathy giggle, your lips brushing against his earlobe in a way that was deliberately provocative.
Aizawa's breath hitched, his body tensing slightly as he felt the whisper-soft touch of your lips against his skin. His hand slid down to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he fought the urge to pull you closer, to crush your lips against his own in a kiss that would leave you both breathless and aching for more.
"Stop it," Aizawa growled, but there was no real bite to his words, only a low, rough edge of desire that sent heat rushing through your veins. "You're playing with fire, little hero. Keep this up, and you might just get burned."
You just smiled, unperturbed by his warning. If anything, his words only spurred you on, fueling your determination to break through his walls, to shatter the last vestiges of his control.
"Maybe that's what I want," you murmured, your voice a low, provocative purr. "Maybe I want to feel the burn, Aizawa. I want to feel everything you have to give me, everything you've been holding back."
With that, you leaned in and captured his lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of your pent-up desire and longing into the heated press of your mouth against his own. Aizawa stiffened for a moment, his body going rigid with surprise and shock, before he yielded to the inevitable, his lips parting beneath your own as he deepened the kiss with a low, guttural groan.
---
As you both finally made it back to Aizawa's apartment after a long day of training and your relentless teasing, the stoic hero could barely contain his fraying patience. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he unlocked the door, his shoulders tense and his steps sharp as he led you inside. It was clear that your antics had taken their toll, chipping away at the last of his famously short fuse.
The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Aizawa turned to face you, his dark eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and barely restrained desire. "Listen here," he began, his voice a low, gruff murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "I know you think it's funny to push my buttons, to see just how far you can go before I snap…"
He took a step towards you, closing the distance between your bodies until you could feel the heat radiating off his lean, muscular frame. His gaze raked over your curves, lingering on the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips - as if he was committing every inch of you to memory.
"But let's get one thing straight," Aizawa continued, his hand coming up to grasp your chin, tilting your head back to force you to meet his intense stare. "You are not the dom here."
To punctuate his words, Aizawa leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your throat in a way that made your knees go weak. His teeth grazed your pulse point, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he murmured:
"Your ass. On the bed. Now."
The command was low, rough, and laced with a dark promise that made your core clench with anticipation. Aizawa's fingers tightened on your chin, his thumb brushing against your lower lip in a deliberate, provocative caress.
You couldn't help but grin, your eyes sparkling with mischief and barely suppressed glee as you gazed up at him. "Yes, Aizawa," you purred, your voice a low, breathy murmur. "Whatever you say, Aizawa."
With a playful, teasing smile, you turned and sashayed towards the bedroom, making sure to put an extra sway in your hips, a deliberate sway that drew his gaze like a magnet. As you reached the bed, you spun around and hopped up onto the mattress, the springs creaking softly beneath your weight.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you looked up at the older hero with a coy, playful smile, patting the space beside you in clear invitation. "Is this what you had in mind, Aizawa?" you asked, your voice a low, provocative purr. "Or did you have something… more in mind?"
You leaned back on your elbows, the position pushing your breasts up and out, the soft swells straining against the fabric of your shirt. Your legs were crossed at the ankle, your feet swinging gently as you waited for Aizawa to make his next move, your heart pounding with anticipation and desire.
Aizawa's patience had officially reached its limit. Your relentless teasing and provocative antics had finally pushed him over the edge, and the stoic hero could no longer hold back the dark, primal urges that had been building within him all day. With a low, animalistic growl, he stalked towards you, his eyes blazing with a intensity that made your heart race and your skin prickle with anticipation.
"You just don't know when to stop, do you?" Aizawa muttered, his voice a low, rough rasp that sent shivers cascading down your spine. He reached up and snatched the wrap scarf from around his neck, the silky fabric slithering through his fingers like a snake coiled and ready to strike.
Before you could react, Aizawa was on you, his large frame looming over your smaller one as he pinned you down onto the bed. His hands grasped your wrists, his long, deft fingers wrapping around the delicate bones with a strength that made your heart flutter wildly in your chest.
"Let's see how much you like teasing me when you can't move," Aizawa growled, his voice a low, dark promise as he began to wind the silky scarf around your wrists, binding them together with a tight, unyielding grip.
You gasped, your back arching off the bed as you felt the smooth, cool fabric slide against your skin, the silky texture a delicious contrast to the heat of Aizawa's fingers as he worked to tie you up. The scarf tightened with each revolution, the knot pulling snug against your wrists until you could feel the blood beginning to rush in your ears, your pulse pounding hot and fast beneath the confines of your binding.
"Ah!" you cried out, a breathless, needy sound that was swallowed up by Aizawa's mouth as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing, dominating kiss. His tongue plundered your mouth, stroking along your own in a way that made your toes curl and your thighs clench around his hips.
Aizawa's hands slid down your bound wrists, his fingers skimming over the sensitive skin of your inner arms, leaving goosebumps and tingling heat in their wake. He grasped the hem of your shirt and began to tug it upwards, his touch rough and demanding as he bared your skin inch by tantalizing inch.
"Keep squirming like this, and I might just have to find other ways to keep you in place," Aizawa murmured, his voice a dark, wicked promise against your lips. His eyes glinted with a dangerous light, a hunger that made your core clench and your heart race wildly in your chest.
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with a mix of fear and exhilaration as you gazed up at the dominant hero looming over you. Some small, sane part of you knew that you should be afraid, that you had pushed Aizawa too far this time - but the rest of you, the part that craved his touch, his possession, his complete and utter domination, reveled in the dark promise in his eyes.
Aizawa took his time undressing you, his fingers moving with a deliberate, almost reverent slowness that made your heart race and your skin prickle with anticipation. He carefully untied the scarf binding your wrists, the silky fabric slipping away to reveal the reddened skin beneath, already aching for his touch once more.
"Don't worry, little hero," Aizawa murmured, his voice a low, rough rasp as he rolled you gently onto your stomach. "I'll tie you up again soon enough. But first..."
He tugged your jeans and panties down your legs, the denim and lace slithering over your skin like a lover's caress. You lifted your hips to help him, your toes curling into the sheets as you felt the cool air kiss your most intimate places, leaving you bare and exposed beneath his heated gaze.
Aizawa's hands skimmed over the globes of your ass, his long, deft fingers kneading the soft flesh, tugging you back and up until you were on your hands and knees, your chest pressed against the mattress and your rear end high and presented for his pleasure.
"Look at you," Aizawa murmured, his voice thick with desire as he drank in the sight of your naked form, splayed out before him like an offering. "Beautiful, perfect, all mine."
You could only whimper, your fingers twisting in the sheets as you felt the cool silk of the scarf slide over your skin once more. Aizawa wrapped it around your wrists, his fingers working with a practiced ease as he began to bind you in intricate, shibari-style knots.
He tied your wrists together, the silk pulling snug against your skin, before looping the fabric around your elbows, your upper arms, your shoulders, until your arms were bound behind your back in a beautiful, artful design.
Next, Aizawa wrapped the scarf around your breasts, the silky material crisscrossing over the soft mounds, pushing them up and together until they strained against the confines of the binding. Your nipples pebbled and ached, the cool silk a delicious contrast to the heat of your skin.
Aizawa continued his sensual torture, his hands and the scarf sliding over your ribs, your waist, your hips, until you were trussed up like a beautiful, bound gift, the silk outlining every dip and curve of your body in a way that made your mouth go dry with anticipation.
Finally, Aizawa tied the last of the knots, the final loop of the scarf pulling snugly between your legs, the silk brushing against your most sensitive places in a way that made you gasp and squirm.
"There," Aizawa murmured, his voice a low, dark purr of satisfaction as he admired his handiwork. "Beautiful. Exquisite. All mine."
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with a mix of fear and exhilaration as you gazed up at the dominant hero looming over you. You were completely at his mercy, bound and helpless and utterly at the mercy of his desire - and you knew that no matter what he did to you, no matter how far he might take you, you would never stop pushing his buttons, never stop craving his touch and his love.
"Please," you breathed, your voice a low, needy whine that was swallowed up by Aizawa's mouth as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing, dominating kiss. And as you lost yourself in the heat and hunger of his embrace, you knew that you would never, ever stop being his, now and for all eternity.
Aizawa silenced your needy pleas with a searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth, stroking along your own in a way that made your toes curl and your thighs clench around his hips. He knew exactly what he was doing, the infuriating man, using the deep, dominating kiss to keep you quiet, to stop your begging before it could even begin.
His hands roamed over your bound body, the silky scarf a delicious barrier between his fingertips and your overheated skin. He caressed your curves, your dips, your valleys, his touch maddeningly teasing as he traced the intricate knots he had tied, the design a beautiful, artful cage that held you in place.
Aizawa's fingers dipped between your shoulder blades, tracing the bumps of your spine, before sliding lower, skimming over the globes of your ass. He squeezed the soft flesh, his long, deft fingers sinking into the pliant muscle until you were arching your back, pushing your rear end higher, silently begging for more.
But Aizawa was having none of that, the wicked man. He pulled his hand away, leaving your skin tingling and aching for his touch, only to slide his palm up the backs of your thighs, his fingers brushing against your inner knees, making you shudder and squirm.
"Shh, be patient," Aizawa murmured, his voice a low, rough rasp against your ear. "You don't need to beg… Not yet, anyway."
His fingers skimmed higher, the backs of your thighs, the sensitive skin behind your knees, until he was cupping the heat of your sex. You could feel the warmth of his touch, the promise of pleasure, the aching anticipation of his fingers sinking deep inside you.
But he didn't. He simply held you there, his palm cupping your sex, his fingers teasing along the slick folds, never quite touching where you needed him most. His other hand slid around your hip, his long, deft fingers finding your nipple, pinching and rolling the hardened peak until you were writhing beneath him, your body aching and yearning for more.
Aizawa's lips trailed kisses along your shoulder, your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin until you were gasping and shuddering, your nails digging into the sheets below. He knew exactly how to touch you to drive you wild, to push you to the brink of madness without ever quite tipping you over the edge.
"Please," you gasped out, your voice a desperate, needy whine that was swallowed up by Aizawa's mouth as he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.
Aizawa just chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "Shh, I told you not to beg," he murmured, his fingers finally, finally sinking into your slick heat, but only to gather the arousal that had gathered there, painting your folds with your own essence. "Not yet.."
You could only whimper, your body trembling and aching and craving his touch, his possession, his complete and utter domination. You were completely at his mercy, bound and helpless and utterly at the mercy of his desire - and you knew that no matter how long he might make you wait, no matter how much he might tease and torment you, you would never stop pushing his buttons, never stop craving his love and affection.
As Aizawa's teasing fingers continued their maddening dance along your most sensitive places, never quite giving you the satisfaction you craved, a sudden surge of bratty defiance welled up inside you. Your body was screaming with need, your nerves feeling like live wires ready to snap at the slightest provocation - and you decided to give Aizawa exactly that.
"Come on, Aizawa," you taunted, your voice dripping with false sweetness even as your body quivered with desperate arousal. "Is that the best you can do? I thought you were supposed to be some big, bad hero. But it looks like you can't even satisfy a little girl like me."
You arched your back, deliberately pressing your bound breasts against the silky scarf, the fabric rubbing against your aching nipples in a way that made you gasp. "Maybe you're just not as skilled as you thought, hmm? Or maybe…" you paused, letting your voice drop to a mocking purr, "maybe you're just too scared to really let go and give me what I need. Afraid you might break little miss perfect hero?"
Aizawa's fingers stilled against your sex, his body tensing above you. You could feel the shift in his demeanor, the darkening of his mood, and a thrill of excitement and fear raced through you. You knew you were treading on dangerous ground, provoking the volatile hero in such a way - but the ache between your thighs was rapidly overriding any sense of self-preservation.
"Keep pushing me, and you might just get what you're asking for." Aizawa growled, his voice low and rough with barely restrained anger.
But you just laughed, a high, tinkling sound that grated against Aizawa's fraying patience. "Oh, I'm shaking in my boots," you mocked, writhing against the silky bonds that held you. "Aizawa, the great and terrible hero, is going to punish me? How utterly terrifying!"
You could feel the heat of Aizawa's anger radiating off him in waves, his body coiled tight with tension. You knew you were playing with fire, but the needy ache between your thighs was rapidly overriding any sense of caution. You wanted him to snap, to lose control, to take you hard and fast and without mercy until you were screaming his name and begging for more.
Aizawa's patience finally snapped with a snarl that echoed through the room like a gunshot. In an instant, he had you flipped over onto your back, his hard body pinning you down, his eyes blazing with a fury that made your heart race and your skin prickle with fear and excitement.
"Enough games," Aizawa growled, his voice a low, rough rasp that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "You want to be treated like a brat? Fine. I'll give you exactly what you're asking for."
Before you could react, Aizawa's hand cracked across your ass, the sharp sting of the slap making you yelp in surprise and pain. He didn't give you a chance to recover, his palm coming down again and again in a relentless barrage of smacks that had you writhing and crying out beneath him.
"Fuck, you're asking for it," Aizawa snarled, his voice tight with barely restrained rage and lust. "You want me to lose control? Fine."
His fingers sank into your hair, fisting the silky strands and wrenching your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, unwavering gaze. With his other hand, he fumbled with his belt, the leather slipping through the buckle with a harsh, grating sound that made your heart pound wildly in your chest.
You could see the bulge tenting the front of Aizawa's pants, the thick, hard length of him straining against the confines of his clothing. Your body clenched in anticipation, a mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins as you realized just how much you had pushed the volatile hero.
Aizawa didn't bother with finesse, his desperation and rage getting the better of him. He yanked his cock out, the thick shaft slapping against your stomach, the hot, heavy weight of him making your mouth go dry with need. Without warning, he notched himself at your entrance, the swollen head of his cock pushing insistently against your slick folds.
"Last chance to back out," Aizawa growled, his voice a low, menacing rasp against your ear. "Tell me to stop now, and I might consider it."
But you just clenched your teeth, your nails digging into the sheets below as you stared up at him with defiant, challenging eyes. "Fuck you," you hissed, your voice tight with a mix of fear and anticipation.
Aizawa's eyes flashed with a dark, feral light at your defiant words. Without another word, he slammed his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight, dripping cunt with one brutal thrust. A guttural groan tore from his throat at the sudden, exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him like a vice, your body struggling to accommodate his thick, pulsing length.
"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight," Aizawa snarled, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, of not losing himself completely in your welcoming heat. "You want to be punished, you fucking brat? I'll give you the punishment you deserve."
He set a punishing pace, his hips slamming against yours with enough force to rock the bed frame, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with Aizawa's harsh pants and your own desperate cries as he fucked into you with wild abandon.
"Take it, you little tease," Aizawa growled, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise while the other fisted in your hair, forcing your face into the pillow to muffle your screams.
His thrusts grew harder, faster, the force of them rocking your entire body, your bound breasts bouncing with each slam of his hips. You could feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock dragging deliciously along your fluttering walls, stretching you wider, filling you fuller than you'd ever been filled before.
Tears streamed down your face as the pleasure bordered on pain, your body struggling to take the brutal fucking Aizawa was giving you. But even as your mind screamed at you to make him stop, to beg for mercy, your treacherous cunt clenched and rippled around his pistoning length, drawing him in deeper, silently urging him on.
As Aizawa's cock plunged into you again and again, stretching your tight channel to its limits, you could feel every throbbing inch of his thick, hard length. The thick, swollen head kissed your cervix with each brutal thrust, the sensation of him hitting that sensitive spot sending jolts of painful pleasure radiating through your core.
His shaft was like a hot, pulsing brand inside you, the textured surface dragging deliciously against your sensitive walls. You could feel every ridge and vein as it stretched you wide, your body struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. It was almost too much, the intense stretch bordering on pain as he split you open on his cock, claiming you, owning you, in the most primal way possible.
The heat of him was scorching, his flesh burning you from the inside out as he pounded into you with wild, animalistic fervor. You could feel the heavy, churning weight of his balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust, the promise of his seed, his essence, painting your insides.
Your body clenched and fluttered around him, the slick, velvety walls gripping his pistoning length like a greedy fist. You could feel every throb and twitch, every pulse of his heartbeat as he fucked into you with a single-minded intensity that left you breathless and aching and desperate for more.
It was crude, it was raw, it was everything you had been craving and so much more. Aizawa's cock was a weapon, a tool of pleasure and punishment, and he was wielding it with the skill and precision of a master.
As Aizawa relentlessly pounded into you, the silky scarf binding your arms and torso creaked and strained against the violent motion. The intricate knots dug into your skin, the fabric pulling taut and biting into your flesh with each brutal thrust. It was a delicious sort of pain, a reminder of your bondage, of your helplessness, of the fact that you were utterly at Aizawa's mercy.
Your breasts, bound and pushed up by the scarf, bounced and jiggled with every slam of Aizawa's hips. The silken material rubbed against your sensitive, aching nipples, the friction sending sparks of painful pleasure zinging through your body. It was almost too much, the constant stimulation, the unrelenting assault on your senses.
But Aizawa showed no mercy, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises on your skin. He yanked you back onto his cock, meeting each of his thrusts with a sharp, brutal snap of his hips. The bed frame creaked ominously, the headboard slamming against the wall hard enough to rattle the pictures hanging there.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Aizawa growled, his voice a low, rough rasp against your ear. His words sent a thrill of dark excitement through you, your body clenching hard around his pistoning length. You were his, completely and utterly, bound and claimed and owned in the most primal way possible. The scarf around your body, the knots digging into your skin, was a physical reminder of that fact, a symbol of your submission, your surrender to his dominance.
Aizawa's punishing pace showed no signs of relenting, his hips slamming into yours with a brutal, merciless rhythm that left you seeing stars. With each violent thrust, he ground his pelvis against yours, the rough denim of his jeans chafing against your sensitive, exposed sex. The coarse fabric rubbed against your swollen clit, the sensation bordering on painful as it sent shockwaves of overstimulated pleasure ricocheting through your core.
His hands roamed your bound body, squeezing and groping, his long fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your breasts, your ass, your thighs. He pinched and rolled your nipples between his fingers, the sharp zings of pain blending deliciously with the relentless pleasure radiating from your core. Your body was a livewire, every nerve ending alight and crackling with sensation, overwhelmed by the onslaught of stimulation.
Aizawa's breath came in harsh, ragged pants against your neck, his lips and teeth and tongue assaulting your sensitive skin. He bit and sucked and licked, leaving a trail of marks and bruises in his wake, branding you as his. One hand fisted in your hair, wrenching your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, feral gaze. The other hand snaked between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight, rough circles that made your back arch and your toes curl.
"Come on, scream for me," Aizawa growled, his voice a low, menacing rasp. "Let everyone in this damn building hear you."
His fingers moved faster, harder, the rough pads of his fingers dragging against your clit until your hips bucked and writhed beneath him, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation. But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from Aizawa's relentless touch, his punishing pace. He was everywhere, surrounding you, consuming you, owning you completely.
Your body was a livewire, pleasure and pain and overwhelming sensation coursing through your veins like liquid fire. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your core, your walls fluttering and clenching around Aizawa's pistoning length, your release barreling down on you like a freight train. But Aizawa was determined to push you to your absolute limit, to make you shatter completely in his arms.
Aizawa's balls slapped against your ass with a lewd, rhythmic sound that mingled with the creaking of the bed and the harsh, ragged pants of his breath. Each impact sent a jolt of sensation through your body, a reminder of his virility, his raw, animalistic desire. His expression remained stoic, almost impassive, even as his chest heaved with exertion and a sheen of sweat clung to his brow.
"Please," you gasped out, your voice ragged and raw from screaming, begging, pleading. But Aizawa just tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers sinking into your soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises.
"Begging won't save you now," he growled, his voice a low, rough rasp. "You pushed me too far, brat. And now you'll pay the price."
He punctuated his words with a brutal thrust, his cock slamming into your cervix with enough force to make you see stars. Your body jerked forward from the impact, but the scarf binding your torso kept you in place, the knots digging into your skin as Aizawa set a punishing, relentless pace.
His other hand slid up your side, his fingers trailing over the swell of your breast, the curve of your ribs, before wrapping around your throat. He didn't squeeze, not yet, but the threat was there, the promise of complete domination, of absolute control.
"Look at me," Aizawa commanded, his voice a low, dark rumble. "I want to see your face when you come apart."
Your eyes fluttered open, your gaze hazy and unfocused from the overwhelming pleasure and stimulation. Aizawa's face swam before you, his features sharp and angular, his eyes burning into yours with a fierce, unyielding intensity.
"Come for me," he growled, his fingers tightening around your throat just enough to make your breath catch. "Now."
Despite Aizawa's commanding tone and the overwhelming pleasure consuming your body, you found a well of defiance deep within yourself. Your lips curled into a smirk, your eyes flashing with challenge as you met Aizawa's intense gaze. You clenched your teeth, determined not to give him the satisfaction of coming undone, not when he wanted it so badly.
"No," you gasped out, your voice ragged but filled with stubborn pride. "Make me."
A dark, dangerous glint appeared in Aizawa's eyes at your bratty response. Without warning, he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into yours with a bruising force that shook the very foundation of the bed. The headboard slammed against the wall, the pictures rattling and threatening to fall from the sheer violence of Aizawa's thrusts.
"Fucking brat," he snarled, his voice tight with a mix of rage and lust. "You want to play hard to get? Fine."
His hand around your throat tightened, not enough to cut off your air supply, but enough to make your pulse jump and race beneath his fingertips. His other hand slid down your bound body, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your ass, squeezing hard enough to leave finger-shaped indents in your skin.
Aizawa's cock plunged into you with a force that stole your breath, each thrust pushing you up the bed, the silken scarf the only thing keeping you from being completely battered by his ruthless pace. Your body jolted and bounced with every impact, your breasts, still bound and pushed up by the scarf, swaying and jiggling obscenely.
But still, you held onto your defiance, your stubborn refusal to come. Even as your body screamed for release, even as every fiber of your being yearned to shatter and break apart in Aizawa's arms, you clenched your teeth and held on, determined not to give him the victory he craved.
Aizawa's breathing grew harsher, his chest heaving with exertion as he fucked into you with a wild, almost feral desperation. Sweat dripped down his brow, his hair disheveled and falling into his eyes as he loomed over you, a dark and dangerous god intent on your complete destruction.
"Come on," he growled, his voice a low, menacing rasp. "Keep fighting it. See how long you last before I break you completely."
His hand around your throat tightened, his hips slamming into yours with enough force to make your vision blur at the edges. He was absolutely wrecking you, pounding into you with a single-minded intensity that left you breathless and aching and desperate for mercy.
But still, you held on, your nails digging into your palms, your body shaking with the effort of denying your impending orgasm. You were determined to push Aizawa to his absolute limits, to make him lose control completely. And you knew, with a dark thrill of excitement, that he would stop at nothing until he had utterly and completely shattered you.
Aizawa's thrusts grew more erratic, more desperate, his hips slamming into yours with a force that split you open around his pistoning length. Each brutal thrust pushed you further up the bed, your bound body sliding against the silken sheets until your head pressed against the headboard, the ornate wood digging into your scalp.
"Fuck, you're still fighting it," Aizawa snarled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Such a stubborn little brat."
He hooked his arms under your knees and folded your legs back towards your chest, nearly bending you in half. The new angle allowed him to plunge even deeper into your core, his cock splitting you open, stretching your walls to their absolute limits. The sensation of him kissing your cervix with every thrust sent jolts of painful pleasure radiating through your body, stealing your breath and making your eyes roll back in your head.
Aizawa's balls, heavy and churning with his seed, slapped against your ass with a lewd, rhythmic sound. The room filled with the crude, obscene noises of your coupling - the slap of flesh against flesh, the creaking of the bed, your ragged pants and Aizawa's harsh, labored breathing. It was a symphony of both love and desire, a dark, debased melody that sang of Aizawa's all-consuming need to break you, to ruin you, to make you his.
He leaned down, his chest pressing against your heaving breasts, his lips brushing against your ear. "You want to be punished so badly.." he growled, his voice a low, menacing rasp.
With that, he redoubled his efforts, his hips slamming into yours with enough force to make the bed frame groan and shudder beneath you. His fingers sank into your hair, gripping the silken strands and wrenching your head back, forcing you to meet his wild, feral gaze. His other hand slid down your body, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight, rough circles that made your back arch and your toes curl.
He was absolutely wrecking you, his thick shaft plunging into your dripping, clenching heat with a force that left you breathless and aching and desperate for more. Your body was a livewire, pleasure and pain and overwhelming sensation coursing through your veins like liquid fire. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink, your release barreling down on you like a freight train, but still, you clenched your teeth and held on, determined to deny Aizawa his victory.
Aizawa's relentless assault on your senses finally took its toll, your body surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. With a scream that tore from your throat, raw and primal and filled with a mix of agony and ecstasy, you came undone beneath him. Your walls clamped down around Aizawa's pistoning length, your body shaking and convulsing as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.
Aizawa snarled in triumph, his hips slamming forward one last time before he stilled, buried to the hilt inside your fluttering heat. You could feel his cock throbbing and pulsing, his hot seed spurting deep inside you, painting your insides with his release.
As the last aftershocks of your climax faded away, Aizawa sighed, a low, satisfied sound that rumbled through his chest. He pulled out of you slowly, his softening length slipping from your well-used, dripping sex with a obscene sound. Sitting back on his heels, Aizawa swiftly removed his shirt, tossing it aside to reveal his toned, muscular torso, marred by a few scars and a smattering of tattoos.
Before you could catch your breath, Aizawa had flipped you over onto your stomach, your bound body pressing into the mattress, the silken scarf creaking beneath your weight. He grabbed your hips, pulling them up and back, forcing your ass to jut out towards him, your legs spread wide.
With that, he notched himself at your entrance once more, the swollen head of his cock nudging against your sensitive, dripping folds. Your body clenched at the sensation, a mix of anticipation and trepidation coursing through you. You knew, with a dark thrill of excitement, that Aizawa was far from done with you. He would keep going until he had wrung every last drop of pleasure from your trembling, aching form, until you were nothing more than a boneless, satisfied puddle of flesh beneath him.
Aizawa's stamina seemed boundless as he loomed over you, his renewed arousal pressing insistently against your sensitive flesh. He gripped your hips with bruising force, fingers sinking into the soft, pliant flesh of your ass as he notched himself at your entrance once more. Without hesitation or preamble, he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your still-fluttering heat in one powerful thrust.
"Ah!" you cried out, your fingers scrabbling at the sheets, your back arching as Aizawa began to move, his hips rolling and snapping in a relentless rhythm. He set a brutal pace, pounding into you with a force that shook the bed, the headboard slamming against the wall with each impact of his hips against yours.
Aizawa leaned over your arched back, his sweat-slick chest pressing against your bound breasts, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he growled, "You thought one orgasm would be enough? How naive."
His hand slid around your throat, long fingers wrapping around your slender column, not squeezing, but the threat was there, the promise of complete domination. The other hand slid down your spine, nails raking against your skin, leaving faint red lines in their wake before gripping your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.
Aizawa's cock plunged into you, splitting you open, stretching you wider with every thrust. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mingling with your ragged pants and Aizawa's harsh, labored breathing. He was taking you with a single-minded intensity, determined to push you to your absolute limits and beyond.
He flipped you onto your side, your legs tangled with his as he hooked your knee over his hip, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your core. His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight, rough circles that made your hips buck and writhe beneath him.
"Come on, brat," Aizawa growled, his voice a low, menacing rasp. "Let's see how many times I can make you scream my name before you pass out."
And so it went on, round after round, your body wracked with pleasure and pain and overwhelming sensation. he showed no mercy, no sign of stopping as he took you again and again, his stamina seemingly endless. He fucked you through one orgasm after another, each one hitting you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and shaking and desperate for a moment's respite.
But he just kept going, his hands roaming your body, his lips and teeth and tongue marking your skin, claiming you as his. He was a man possessed, driven by a primal need to ruin you, to break you, to make you his in every way possible.
As the night wore on, you could feel yourself growing weaker, your body growing more sensitive, your mind hazing with exhaustion and overstimulation. But still, Aizawa pushed you on, his thrusts never faltering, his desire never waning.
He would keep going until he had wrung every last drop of pleasure from your trembling, aching form, until you were nothing more than a boneless, satisfied puddle of flesh beneath him. Only then, when you could no longer take any more, would he allow himself his own release, flooding your depths with his hot, thick seed.
