A lesson they won’t forget (complete)
A demon slayer/Kny tk fic
Warning: this particular fic should be read with caution as it contains physical restraint/tickling as punishment. I typically don’t write those kind of things but inspiration just hit me
Saying Muzan was livid was an understatement, when an unfortunate lower ranked demon told him the news he immediately killed them out of anger. The demon king’s hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles becoming impossibly white as his body trembled through rage.
That damned child, Tanjiro Kamado escaped death once again. Even after sending the three highest ranked demons he had to exterminate the child they came back to the castle empty handed.
The demon king took a deep breath, rapping his sharp nails against the arm of his throne rhythmically as he took several deep breaths to calm himself down. ‘Focus’ he chanted in his head like a mantra, slowly regaining his bearings.
Muzan knew he had to punish his underlings. But how? Demon’s have a much higher resilience to pain and he couldn’t exactly kill his strongest men, no matter how much he wanted to. But in that moment something clicked in his twisted mind, his teeth glimmering in the dim light as he smiled. He had to get creative.
Soon enough he had the trio of upper moons inside a special space deep within the infinity castle. The three of them were bound with chains dipped in water infused with wisteria both to weaken them physically and show they had no power here.
But of course merely tying them up wasn’t enough for Muzan, he aimed to humiliate them as much as he felt humiliated by their failures, to break them. And judging by the sounds of hysteria ringing out like deathly church bells throughout the dungeon he certainly achieved that with ease.
He walked on over to his strongest subordinate and upper moon 1: Kokushibo, his shoes clacking against the ground with each step. The former slayer-turned-demon was bound into a Y position and all six of his eyes were covered with a blindfold. A dozen wispy, clawed hands arose from the darkness, their intent obvious to anyone with eyes.
Nails scratch at the surprisingly tender flesh underneath his arm, swirling against his armpits in a circular motion. The other remaining hands plucked at the upper moon’s ribs and clawed at his back, poking at the individual vertebrae.
Kokushibo shivered from the sheer intensity of the sensations bombarding his nerves with the relentless force of a hurricane yet he didn’t dare utter a sound. The demon bit hard down on his lip, drawing blood that dripped onto the ground below like raindrops, trying to fight the smile that was threatening to form on his face.
If the shame of letting down Muzan wasn’t humiliating as is, the embarrassing method of punishment surely was. Though that couldn’t be said about the upper moon 2..
Douma was forced onto his hands and knees, the cult leader bound on all fours like an animal. Vine-like tendrils burst out from the restraints that held him captive, wriggling and squirming in an unnatural yet fluid manner.
The tendrils slipped under Douma’s clothing and attacked his pale, muscular thighs with sadistic vigour that made his legs quiver. Even more of those tendrils aimed for the sensitive skin of his hipbones and wriggled against them in a way that would hurt any human but to the powerful upper moon 2, it only left him in a state of uncontrollable laughter.
Much to Muzan’s disappointment, Douma seemed the least humiliated by such an inherently embarrassing form of punishment that was being bound and mercilessly tickled by their superior. The rainbow-eyed demon almost seemed to be enjoying the attention unlike the last of his strung up failures.
Despite being the lowest ranked of the trio Muzan knew he had to take extra care into binding the pink-haired demon, his physical strength being almost unmatched. The upper moon 3 was bound into a position where he was forced into the splits and his arms stretched above his head, his powerful limbs completely encased by the wisteria coated steel.
Claw-like apparitions made quick work of the tattooed demon, tracing and scratching at the defined lines of his abdominals, poking at each individual muscle as he thrashed in place. The other apparitions explored much lower, tending to his powerful yet deathly sensitive soles, clawing at the smooth skin and pinching at the coloured digits in a way that rendered the demon hysterical.
Tears streaked from Akaza’s eyes, streaking down his striped cheeks as he cackled hysterically, no doubt regretting his choice in clothing. His expression was nothing short of enraged, even with the wide smile on his face it was clear how absolutely livid he was. Yet, he dared not hurl a single profanity at his master.
The demon king sat back down on his throne as he watched his subordinates squirm with smug satisfaction. Perhaps he should use this method of punishment more, it certainly amused him.