Warnings: Smut, BDSM, D/s, whipping/flogging, manacles, dirty talk, use of a cockring, blowjob, dom!Miyavi.
Pairing: Miyavi (solo, S.K.I.N.)/Aki (SID)
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: “But you haven’t done what I want yet,” Miyavi replies, his voice calm and reasonable yet still cold and unfamiliar. “Shame on you for underestimating me. For thinking I wasn’t capable of this.”
Comments: I wrote this a while ago for sike_o_path, but you guys know how bad I am with posting sometimes, right? *laughs* Anyway, sike_o_path requested Miyavi/Aki with slutty, needy Aki, and… uhm. Well. I delivered? I’m not quite sure this is what she had in mind, though. XDXDXD But it’s what Miyavi had in mind. ^^;
He realizes entirely too late that he had made a mistake: he had underestimated Miyavi.
And now he is paying for his transgression.
When he had entered Miyavi’s apartment earlier, Miyavi had been standing in the middle of the living room, waiting for him. Aki had been startled by the look in his lover’s dark eyes—he’d never seen that look before.
When Miyavi had told him in a voice that sounded completely unlike the Miyavi he knew to strip, Aki had done so, feeling a mix of confusion and anticipation as his clothes had hit the floor with a muted rustle.
When Miyavi had told him to fall to his knees and keep his eyes on the floor, Aki had again obeyed, feeling like he was stepping into unknown territory as Miyavi placed manacles – fucking manacles - around his wrists.
When Miyavi had made a comment along the lines of, “Hard already, you dirty whore?”, Aki had blushed in shame and lowered his head even further in an attempt to hide his face. Miyavi had then proceeded to place a cockring around his length—one that had some kind of… spikes on it so that it bit into his skin and ached dully, and Aki had whimpered in protest.
Miyavi had slapped him for that, and Aki’s head had reeled in shock.
When Miyavi had placed a thigh-spreader between already-spread thighs, adding to the discomfort, he had said, “Need to keep your thighs spread wide, like the little slut you are,” and Aki had felt the shame hit him again, full-force. It had been like a physical blow.
And when Miyavi had brought out the cat o’nine tails, Aki had felt the first hint of fear trickle down his spine.
Miyavi had brought the flogger down onto his body – his back, his ass, his thighs – over and over and over again, until Aki had lost count and the pain and pleasure had become one. By the time Miyavi had paused, Aki had known that there were angry stripes of red on his body, and he had known that if he put on jeans later, they would be more than a little uncomfortable.
Miyavi had then licked at his red, heated skin, and it had had the same effect as Aki supposed putting salt in a wound would have. It had hurt, and at the same time, it had felt good, insomuch that Aki had writhed and begged, though he hadn’t really known what he had been begging for.
Miyavi had ignored the begging, and before Aki had even realized what was happening, Miyavi had shoved his cock into his mouth and Aki, unprepared, had gagged. Miyavi had chuckled darkly but he hadn’t paused. He hadn’t stopped until he had spilled himself down Aki’s throat, and when he had pulled away, Aki had swallowed a few times, his throat already feeling raw and abused.
Miyavi had taken a few deep breaths, and then he had lowered himself to a squatting position, the fingers of one hand sliding beneath Aki’s chin and lifting, forcing Aki to look at him. The fingers of his other hand had curled around Aki’s cock and stroked, and Aki had moaned and arched into the contact, though only just.
“Do you want me to take this off now and give you what you want?” Miyavi had asked, his voice deceptively gentle, and Aki had nodded and pleaded with him, but his pleas had yet again fallen on deaf ears. Miyavi’s eyes had darkened and he had frowned, his hand sliding down to the base of Aki’s erection, where the cockring was – and still is – and squeezing hard—hard enough for the dull ache to turn into a sharp pain, hard enough to make Aki scream.
“That’s too bad,” Miyavi had purred, licking at the labrets below Aki’s bottom lip. “Because I haven’t gotten what I want yet.”
Aki is still on his knees, his cock and his thighs and his wrists aching. Miyavi is circling him, the cat o’nine tails still clutched in his hand. Aki is waiting for another blow, but he’s fairly certain that said blow won’t come until he least expects it. The uncertainty sets him on edge.
His Miyavi is kind and funny and loving. His Miyavi likes to cuddle, and likes nice, slow, lazy fucks in the shower and in the bed. His Miyavi could never be capable of something like this, surely. But this Miyavi – this Miyavi that he doesn’t know, doesn’t recognize – is clearly capable of it.
This isn’t his Miyavi; this Miyavi is dispassionate and impersonal—impassive and seemingly uncaring. He isn’t familiar with this Miyavi, whose words ghost over his skin like steel coated in silk.
And the thing that is perhaps even more alarming is the fact that Aki is enjoying this. It is new, uncharted territory. He is aching all over and he is almost terrified of this new, unrecognizable Miyavi. But the lust coursing through his body cannot be ignored or mistaken for something else. It would also seem – strangely enough – that the icy fear running through his veins does nothing to dispel the heat that is already there, but it seems to… to add to it somehow.
Miyavi laughs, and there it is, the blow that Aki’s been waiting for, and he tries to flinch away from the pain, but he cannot. He’ll be lucky if he can wear anything later without discomfort.
“Miyavi,” he pleads again, “please. Please. Please stop… I’ll do whatever you want.”
“But you haven’t done what I want yet,” Miyavi replies, his voice calm and reasonable yet still cold and unfamiliar. “Shame on you for underestimating me. For thinking I wasn’t capable of this.”
”This isn’t you,” Aki breathes, even though he knows it doesn’t make sense, because it is Miyavi, of course.
Miyavi moves so that he’s standing in front of Aki once more, but Aki doesn’t look up at him. “Oh, but it is, Aki-chan. And you know, I rather like seeing you like this. You take on the role of the needy, pleading slut like a duck takes to water, don’t you?” He gently pets Aki’s head, and the light touch is unexpected—it throws Aki off. “Give me what I want, Aki, and I will give you want you want. It’s that simple.”
Aki doesn’t understand. Miyavi’s already had release, and Aki’s pleaded with him.... He doesn’t know what Miyavi wants. “I don’t know what you want! I’ve tried every--”
“Yes you do,” Miyavi cuts him off, and then he grabs a fistful of Aki’s hair and jerks so hard that tears of pain spring to the bassist’s eyes, and he squeezes them shut to hold said tears back.
And with that pain comes a flash of clarity, so bright that it nearly burns Aki’s closed eyes. “I’m sorry!” he blurts, releasing a soft, half-sob. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please forgive me!”
The fingers in Aki’s hair relax their hold, and Miyavi murmurs, “Good. You should be. That’s what I wanted.” His long, nimble fingers then make quick work of the cockring, tossing it aside, and he begins to stroke Aki, using fast, rough jerks of his wrist that are guaranteed to make Aki come sooner rather than later.
Two fingers are then shoved into his body, and Aki groans and presses back against them, eyes nearly crossing when those fingers scissor and Miyavi’s wrist twists roughly in the same moment. That hurts, too, but Aki certainly isn’t about to complain.
Miyavi’s fingers curl and find his prostate, and rub, and Aki falls apart, spiraling down into oblivion while he sobs in relief and writhes while Miyavi continues to milk his cock until there is nothing left.
Later, the thigh-spreader and the manacles are removed, and Miyavi helps Aki clean up. He then takes Aki to bed and curls around him almost protectively.
“You made a mistake,” Miyavi eventually tells Aki, his voice soft. The old, familiar Miyavi is back, and it’s comforting.
“I did,” Aki agrees, nodding weakly.
“Do not underestimate me again.” A cold warning.
“I won’t,” Aki replies, and he means it.
He has the feeling, though, that this isn’t the last time he’ll be confronted with this strange, exciting, terrifying, other Miyavi.
And Aki is looking forward to seeing him again.
I didn’t know my Miyavi was capable of such things, either. ^^ At least, not on this level. Hmm. I wonder if he’s trying to steal Ruki’s thunder. *snicker*