#kokosmile

[thejesterfrog]

SIXTH!!!! yomi's so fun to draw waaahhhh

sorry this took so long y'all my depression came back with a new patch and added features i didn't ask for

<- previous kiss next kiss ->

[austajunk]

Hey, when it comes to your prompts, could you do one with Yomi and Yuma for 5, 9 and 14? Playing the game, I always wondered what would happen if Yuma really did get captured by the peacekeepers.

Alright! This is a Yuma and Yomi non-con fic which means:

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ THESE TAGS.

Triggers: Noncon/R*pe, Prison Sex, Conditioning, Manipulation, Humiliation, Degradation, and Torture.

I do not want someone reading something they damn well know they shouldn’t be. Please take care of yourself and judge accordingly.

Fic under the cut.

“AHHH-!!”

The whip snapped across Yuma’s lower torso and a follow-up lash to his inner thigh cut his current shrieks off with another choked sob.

Yuma hung there in the ropes that suspended his arms and dangled him from the prison ceiling like a limp rag doll. The rookie detective’s small body was completely bare and covered from head to toe in bruises and welts from his frequent beatings. Whenever he would try to recover and shut his eyes, Director Yomi would see to it that a Peacekeeper would simply hit Yuma with a bucket of ice cold water and Yuma’s eyes would be forced open, red and blurry.

It had gone on for a month. At least, Yuma thought it was a month. Shinigami’s voice had faded from his mind after all the beatings and electric shocks. Yuma couldn’t remember much of anything anymore. The days dragged on with him suspended. Yomi would adjust him in different positions until he was now wrapped securely with the rope cutting lines of red into his pale flesh, keeping his legs spread so the world outside his cell could see all of his shame. His arms were secured behind him and his ass protruded into the air even with his legs split apart. Stuffed inside of his ass was a baton and a vibrator. Both were “gifts” from Director Yomi and he would activate the vibrator to rouse Yuma from the levels of unconsciousness and make him bite at his gag like a horny, needy animal.

Yuma Kokohead was reduced to a lowly toy.

As hours passed in silence one day, Yuma opened his eyes. New tear tracks washed away the old trails on his face. The vibrator lodged in his ass was spinning and humming, sending tremors of sensation throughout his suspended body. Yomi had fitted him with a ring gag and Yuma found his tongue lapping desperately at the metal placed in between his teeth.

Stimulation… he’d do anything for it.

He wanted to be desperate enough to scream, but will had been shattered a long time ago. He couldn’t even hear Shinigami anymore…nor any of his friends from the Nocturnal Detective Agency…and it was all his fault.

Yuma wanted to die, but Yomi made sure he kept living.

“You know… it’s almost sad…”

That devilish voice pricked Yuma’s ears, making him wince in turn as a gloved hand caressed his ass. “You lost me so much of my resources, but at the same time, showed me the weaknesses I had on staff at the Peacekeepers. I almost feel appreciative. Almost.” Yuma barely registered the words from the red head’s lips until he spat into Yuma’s ring gag. Yuma groaned, but his tongue shamefully ran through the spittle. Anything to ease the dryness in his mouth and the burning in his throat.

Yomi let out a snort, then lowered his eyes between Yuma’s legs. His hand rose to clench Yuma’s lilac locks and forced his eyes wide open. “You’re dripping on the floor, you fucking mutt. Did you piss yourself again?!”

Yuma held back the cry in his throat even as Yomi jerked his head forward. Worse even, the leftover gloved hand reached up to stroke Yuma’s half-hard cock. Tracing the veins beneath Yuma’s shaft, Yomi plugged his prisoner’s slit with his thumb.

“Wait… what’s this?” The redheaded dictator feigned concern. “Oh no…this isn’t piss… your cock getting hard.” He laughed, glancing down at the precum that dribbled onto his fingers. Without waiting for Yuma’s response, he jammed his two first fingers into Yuma’s mouth and savored the choking noises he received for pumping his fingers between the boy’s lips. “Taste yourself, you hole—!”

And Yuma did. Roughly, Yomi plunged his fingers to the back of his throat and Yuma could taste the salty, bitter taste of his arousal on his tongue.

“Did you actually get used to this?” Yomi clicked his tongue, watching Yuma suckle messily upon his fingers. “That’s a shame… we’ll really have to switch it up now…but then again…”

Yomi’s voice lowered dangerously. Every time he spoke, Yuma felt the evil and cruelty of his words wash through his body in waves. He moaned to his fingertips.

Was it true…? Had he really “adjusted” to this situation, this abuse, this hell?

Continuing to run his tongue along Yomi’s digits, Yuma couldn’t find the strength to even cry anymore. Maybe… he did adjust. Maybe he just wanted to please Yomi and make it end! His small voice whimpered in his throat pitifully. He sniffled and the panicked urges inside of him forced him to suck on Yomi’s fingers to prove himself.

Yomi raised an eyebrow. That wicked grin spread across his cheeks. It wasn’t like he was human. Instead, under the dim and miserable lighting of the cell, he appeared to be a demon who wore the flesh of a human as his mask. He let out a sick, delighted howl of laughter.

The baton and vibrators were shoved out of Yuma’s ass after Yomi’s fingers left his throat. Yomi ripped his gag off and tossed it aside. Yuma threw his head back as far as his bindings would allow and cried out. It was barely audible above Yomi’s amusement.

“A little shitstain like you is actually being honest for once, is that it?!” He let his hands clap down on Yuma’s naked ass and elicited another weak yelp from the detective. Then he gripped Yuma by his hair and leaned in to whisper,

“You really do want to be my little hole now, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

The answer was immediate and hollow. Broken. Yuma could feel Yomi’s smirk widened against the back of his neck. And… it wasn’t a lie. Yuma wanted to fall to the floor and weep, but he was strung up like an animal. He wanted to cry out for what he had lost. His friends, his partner, his memories, and his sanity. He didn’t care anymore. It didn’t matter. He would sink…sink away into nothing and lose himself if it meant surviving. If it meant mercy…

If it meant he could be touched after these unending days of torture!

Two fingers slipped into Yuma’s puckered asshole and Yuma lost his mind in the sensation. A whine built in the back of his throat, but Yomi hissed and tightened the grip in his hair again.

“Shut the fuck up. You’ll take it and you’ll like it…”

Yuma nodded, holding back his sniffles. He bucked and wiggled his ass until he heard the light rap of Yomi’s trousers hitting the floor beneath him.

“But I get it. You want my cock instead, don’t you?” His eyes flashed over Yuma’s body as his pet’s ass contracted and squeezed over his digits.

“Y-yes—!” Yuma was cut off at the tugging of his hair.

“Louder, hole!!!” Yomi demanded. He spat on Yuma’s cheek.

“YES! I W-WANT YOUR COCK PLEASE—!”

Did… Did those words really leave Yuma’s lips? His mind was spinning.

And Yomi pulled his fingers out and let his cock replace them. Yuma’s eyes shot wide open. He was bigger than both the baton and toy he had been training Yuma with. It stretched and burned through his ass as Yomi drove inside of him. Inch after inch, Yuma took his meat and bucked and swung about in his bindings. The ropes cut into him but wouldn’t let up. Every searing thrust was going to throw him over the edge—

“Go ahead and come, hole!” Yomi hissed behind him, his own cock pulsing inside of Yuma’s tight ass. His grunts were low and husky, the force of his hips pinning inside of Yuma until he could go no further.

The command was so primal and sordid that Yuma had no choice but to obey. He cried out for all of Kanai Ward to hear him declare his sickening pleasure and painted the floor beneath him in a puddle of white. From behind, Yomi’s thrusts spread up and he pulled out at the last moment, spurting his seed up Yuma’s pale backside.

“Hfff…huff…heh…my little hole…” Yomi’s groans slipped Yuma back to his senses. He slid his slick cock between Yuma’s asscheeks and continued to grind up and down until he was certain his cock smeared the excess cum on his new pet.

After a few moments of rough breathing, there was a light click and the ropes holding Yuma slid off and let him collapse to the floor.

Yomi knelt down to the broken prisoner. All Yuma could make out was that grin as Yomi pushed his cock to his lips for him to clean.

“I wonder what else you can be conditioned for… maybe you’ll make something of a peacekeeper someday…”

[austajunk]

think I sent this when requests were closed (oopsies) I remember reading your oneshots w/ zilch/yuma somno and then the Yomi/yuma dubcon/corruption/kidnapping and has the scenario that they could be intertwined moments 👀

So maybe as a part 3 where yuma is fully corrupted and we see a Yomi/yuma with 3, 11, 37, 41, and 49 fic??

(Maybe zilch and Martina make a cameo as well :3)

I'm gonna add this to "The Edge" on my AO3 account as a continuation of that fic.

Guys, I think we all have to admit we have a thing for watching Yuma suffer...

After Yomi thoroughly broke Yuma, Yuma tries to find a new routine in life as the red-headed tyrant's pet...

Triggers: Dub-con, pet play, nipple torture, exhibition, rough sex, and corruption/training

When Yuma received his first set of clothes under Yomi's direction, he was too relieved and elated to have something belong to him. He didn't care if it meant donning what was a Peacekeeper's uniform--or that it had to come off as soon as he set foot back in Yomi's office.

He had something to keep him warm underneath the heavy downpour of Kanai Ward. When he returned to Yomi, he was obedient and grateful. At first, his stomach churned at the thought. Because of Yomi, there was no Nocturnal Detective Agency, no friends, and no Chief Yakou to return to. Shinigami's voice in his head had long faded and left Yuma wondering if he was nothing but a husk of a human being.

Oh, how he wished he was nothing but a husk of a human being. It would be so much easier.

While he thought he could numb himself to whatever Yomi Hellsmile demanded of him, instead he received an even worse treatment. Yomi lavished attention on him. Affection. Each command for Yuma to crawl to heel at his boots was met with the snap of the leash on the leather collar the former detective was forced to wear and a stroke to his chin. Yuma curled into that stroke and panted, his mouth open and his eyes wanting.

He lost himself when Yomi treated him like a pet to treasure. Knowing it was all fake made it entirely easy to melt into his clutches, to pant as Yomi's fingers brushed over his cock and teased him.

"Not yet," Yomi hissed, sitting back behind his desk. "You certainly haven't earned it, have you?"

Yuma would agree with him. He hadn't. Any instinct to cry at his pathetic predicament was drowned out by the splatters of rain against the windows of the office. The rain, like crystalline replacements of his own sorrow, left him only with his arousal. There was nothing else left.

Forgetting himself, Yuma mindlessly crawled in accordance to the tug Yomi gave his leash and found his place in between the tyrant's legs. A long, hard metal chain hung from his nipples. On occasion, he was tugged and led by the chain if Yomi was in a particularly merciless mood, but that night, they simply swung side to side from his poor, erect nubs.

Yomi was surprisingly in the mood to help him, to unzip himself and give Yuma easy access to his cock. Yuma found himself hungry already. He gave the cock a few eager licks before taking him deep inside his mouth. His chest surged with excitement as Yomi gripped the back of his hair and urged him to go further. To take his shaft deep across his tongue, to flick the veins and taste his master.

All the while, his own cock shamefully hardened between his naked thighs. An aroused beast pleasuring his master, Yuma mused. But he couldn't feel pathetic. He only wanted to melt under touches. It isn't long before Yomi grunts and begins to fuck his head, tightening that ruthless grip in his hair and forcing him to and fro across his dick until that fated twitch occurs in Yuma's throat.

"Fuck!" Yomi shudders audibly, pulling back as his cum spills in Yuma's mouth and down his lips. The last few strands of hot seed paint Yuma's cheeks. Before the former detective can brush it away, Yomo grips his chin and tilts it upwards so their gazes meet. Yuma's violet eyes are filled to the brim with curiosity, with hunger and mesmerization. He isn't the same as he was before. The dregs of Yomi's cum trickles over his lips and he wanted to lap it up like the pet he was. But Yomi holds him there.

Finally, after a long and unbearable silence:

"Swallow," ordered Yomi.

Yuma did. And he did so gratefully. He licked his lips of the salty excess and swallowed the load inside of his mouth, groaning as he cleaned himself. His cock pulsed between his legs. Anything for a touch. But he couldn't. Yomi wouldn't let him.

Instead, Yomi cupped his cock and petted it, making Yuma's face clenched and his body twitch. He groaned against, pushing his shaft into Yomo's possessive grip. Yomi smirked down at him, admiring that dark and needy gaze in Yuma's eyes.

"Shit," said Yomi, the satisfaction burning in his eyes. "I wonder if I can shove you out in the rain in some alley over in Kamasaki. See how much those peasants will pay to fuck you for me." He peered over Yuma's pale, naked body, observing his ass. His hand released Yuma's cock, letting the boy whimper from the lack of attention. But he didn't care. Instead, Yuma's protests were met with a quick swat to his ass.

"HMGH-!" Yuma's eyes widened, the heat searing across his cheek. He rolled forward on his arms, raising his rear high in the air for Yomi's inspection. A bit of wetness poked from his soft eyes, and he gritted his teeth. It hurt. Oh fuck, did it hurt, but he would bear it all to be caressed and used.

"Oh yeah," said Yomi carelessly. "I love this tight ass of yours..." He slid a finger between Yuma's cheeks, sinking into his puckered hole. Yuma squirmed, his face flushing from the feeling. He still hadn't adjusted... even with all the treatment from the vibrators. "But we still need to loosen you up. How the fuck do you expect to take me all the way?"

Yuma hung his head. "I-I'm s-sorry..."

Another smack to his ass. Yuma threw his head back, biting his lip to stifle his cries. "What was that?!" Yomi demanded. To Yuma's relief, he was still grinning. This was fun for him. There were no signs he had been let down by Yuma's helplessness. Good. Yuma wanted it that way.

"I'm sorry m-my ass is too tight!" Yuma panted wearily. "Please t-take me o-out to the streets... I want to l...learn properly to suck...and fuck!"

Pleased, Yomi inserted another finger into Yuma's ass, teasing the digits in and out. "Is that right? You want to fuck more, is that it? The great Yomi Hellsmile taught you all the joys of getting ruined, huh?"

Yuma winced again. But he shook it off before the feelings could swell to his features, letting only the heat rise his ears. He definitely wanted to fuck. More and more. As much as he could.

The taunting would continue until Yuma was pressed against the glass of the penthouse window with Yomi fucking him from behind. The cool glass contrasted with the heat of Yomi's body, making him feel like he was balancing on a tightrope. His eyes let the lights of the city beneath the window burn into his gaze. What a hopeless, dark city... the rain would never stop. But it was beautiful to gaze at while Yomi jammed the last inch of his cock inside of Yuma. He whimpered as his walls closed and took Yomo in, his hot breath creating mist that obstructed his vision.

Harder. Yuma mentally begged for himself to get it harder. To get stretched and used until he couldn't feel anymore. Yomi would always cut it off before that happened, so instead, he lost his mind in the blissful heat. His cock smeared his wet arousal against the glass beneath him, something Yomi snickered and chided him for.

A long whistle floated to Yuma's senses, waking him from his stupor. The elevator to Yomi's penthouse ringed, and he heard the door slide shut. He wanted to crane his neck to see who had arrived, but Yomi grunted and increased the pace of his hips. It was so like the dictator of Kanai Ward to show the true signs of his domination as soon as he got an audience.

"What the fuck is it?!" He spat among a flurry of violent thrusts. Yuma couldn't help but to sputter and cry, gripping the front of the window as Yomi fucked him deeper. With a forceful shove of Yomi's hand, his head smacked the glass, and he went delirious under the pressure. He couldn't hold it any long. His body undulating against Yomi's, he came and let the pressure of his climax rush against the window. One shot. Then another. A final, hot rope of cum oozed down his thighs, leaving him panting as Yomi continued to use him.

"Aheh..." An amused voice chortled at Yuma's predicament. Without any hesitance, one of the hitmen Yomi associated with skunk up beside the two as they fucked. Yuma could just barely recognized him. Zilch, was it? No... that was what he pretended to be. He thought he had ended him through working with Shinigami, but evidently Yomi told him of some sort of experimental procedure that could bring utilized forces back from the dead...

Whatever it was, it wasn't Yuma's job as a pet to know anymore. Those red eyes of the hitmen watched him with amusement and entitlement. He reached out to stroke Yuma's wet cock, jerking him off slowly. Not enough to get the poor boy off, just enough to tease his flaccid cock well back on its way to erect.

"Ha...." Yuma groaned, rolling his eyes back.

"Sorry if it's a bad time, Director Yomi," said the hitman with a slight snicker.

His director glared back him, slowing his pace with an indignant grunt. His thrusts became more precise, more in rhythm to match Yuma's hips. He wasn't so far from his end. But that didn't make interruptions any less annoying. "Spit-it-out!" He huffed.

Zilch, or rather, the hitman nodded quickly. Even when his lover was fucking another pet, that didn't mean he could be let off the hook for any indiscretion. Still stroking Yuma off, he said, "Kamasaki district is seeing some strange protesting activity. We've been disposing of a rebellion in the area, but they seem to be a dime a dozen these days..." His eyes rested on Yuma's expression, stopping his treatment to let his cock press against the window again. He stepped back, enjoying the view of Yomi's final finish.

Once Yomi sped up again, he gave one final thrust through Yuma's walls and sighed in satisfaction, filling him with a hearty helping of cum. He planted his hand back in Yuma's hair, letting the boy writhe in delectable ecstasy as he shot his last line of cum across his ass cheeks when pulling out.

"Miserable shits," said Yomi with a bitter snarl. He spat at the back of Yuma's neck, pulling back and letting his pet crumble to the floor. The hitman hid his smirk, turning away from Yuma's form.

In mere moments, Yuma could hear the ringing for the elevator and the door shut again. Then he knew he was alone.

That was alright. He lifted his head, watching the chain from his neck go up link by link. He felt the chain through his fingers and shuddered deeply.

His cock was still hard between his legs and mindlessly, in Yomi's absence, he worked his hand over his shaft in a pumping motion on his own.

For a moment, he briefly thought of running. Then he glanced down to the dark, purple city beneath the window.

No. He wouldn't run. It was time to join his master for work. Stumbling from the soreness in his ass, he struggled to get to his feet and seek out his new uniform. The sooner Yomi returned home with him, the sooner he could be filled again. And again.

As long as he was alive...