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The sudden shift from the quiet, dark hallway to the interior of the bedroom was a sensory assault. The space was still dim, lit only by a pair of low-wattage lamps, but the sound hit Hitoshi first: a deep, insistent, relentless thrumming that filled the air, the combined vibration of two high-powered vibrators pressed against sensitive flesh and nerves.
Hitoshi paused at the doorway, absorbing the tableau that unfolded before him. Every fantasy he’d indulged during the hour long wait had been realized, and yet, reality surpassed expectation.
There was Katsuki, his bratty, magnificent firecracker of a boyfriend, completely undone. Katsuki was a vision of chaos—shattered control, radiant and raw. His wrists were bound high above his head, leather cuffs anchoring him to the headboard, forcing a vulnerable V-shape that made every tendon stand out, every muscle a taut line of protest. His legs were bound; thighs splayed wide, knees bent so that his heels were pressed against his plush ass, hips lifted slightly off the sheets, leaving everything exposed. The crown of his rigid cock punctuated by the vibration of a high-frequency bullet toy, taped brutally in place. Another toy pulsed mercilessly within, pressing deep against his prostate, a silent tormentor amplifying every nerve ending.
But it was Katsuki’s face that captured Hitoshi’s immediate, overwhelming attention, turning the arousal in his gut into a sharp, painful ache.
Katsuki’s head was tossed slightly back, his face a complete, pitiable mess. Tears streamed down his flushed, pink cheeks, the continuous flow mixing with the frantic sheen of sweat. His eyes were puffy, the lids swollen and ringed in a heartbreaking crimson from a solid hour of sobbing and straining against the relentless vibration. Drool, thick, leaked freely from the corner of his trembling lips, staining the sheet beneath his chin.
Katsuki was babbling—a low, incessant, utterly incoherent stream of sound that was barely recognizable as human speech. It was choked with frustrated sobs and broken pleas, the words dissolving into garbled syllables and wet, helpless cries.
Every visible shudder, every convulsive jerk, and every desperate whine sent a surge of possessive heat through Hitoshi. The sight of it was a potent aphrodisiac, a visceral, unrelenting pull at his own arousal. Katsuki’s vulnerability, displayed so openly, was intoxicating. It was punishment, reward, and submission rolled into one chaotic, breathtaking package.
Hitoshi stepped further into the room, deliberately slow, drawing out the anticipation. The whimpers intensified as his presence became more tangible. He allowed his eyes to roam the soaked, sweat-slicked planes of Katsuki’s body—the sharp angle of ribs, the taut swell of his abdomen, the pronounced veins in his neck, each detail a testament to the exquisite suffering of restraint and overstimulation.
This was Katsuki’s punishment—and Hitoshi’s prize—for throwing a fit and ignoring three direct orders to stop arguing at the party earlier tonight. Katsuki never fully learned his mistakes until the control was violently stripped away.
“H’shi… too… much… can’t… please… I… I can’t …’lease…” Katsuki’s voice was ragged, a mangled thread of sound, thick with snot and residue drool. His hips writhed instinctively, a useless protest against the internal invasion, the dual vibrations driving every nerve ending into frantic overdrive.
Hitoshi didn’t speak. He simply stood at the side of the bed, reaching reaching into his pocket to take out the remote control, making sure Katsuki saw the gesture. The finality of the control was a silent punishment in itself. The mere reminder tightened the tension in the air, elevating the desperation.
Katsuki’s body quivered under his gaze, trembling in helpless need. Every sob, every ragged inhale, every frantic flutter of eyelids only fanned the flames of Hitoshi’s desire—the visible tears, the helplessness, the desperate need—was a stimulant more potent than any physical touch..
Finally, Hitoshi knelt beside the bed, his voice dropping to a smooth, dark purr—gentle, but laced with absolute authority.
“Look at you, Kitten,” Hitoshi murmured, his breath brushing the side of Katsuki’s ear. “You’ve made such a mess. You’re soaked in it.”
Katsuki’s head turned slightly, eyes wide and red, locking on Hitoshi with a mixture of hope and pleading. Fresh tears sprang free, tracing paths across his cheeks. The sounds escalated into broken, hiccuping cries. Hitoshi’s own body responded with a jolt, cock straining against his jeans as his fingers flexed. The raw, total surrender—physical, emotional, psychological—was a feast for his senses.
“Sir… please…” The plea was barely a whisper.
Hitoshi reached out, his fingertips cool against Katsuki’s scalding jawline. He gently brushed the damp, sticky hair back from Katsuki’s eyes, his touch feather-light, almost religious. He didn't wipe away the tears; he simply traced the paths they had made, feeling the hot dampness.
“You’ve been bad tonight,” Hitoshi murmured, drawing power from the sobs. “I warned you. Three times. And yet…” His eyes traveled down Katsuki’s taut form, the restrained , vibrating cock, the shivering thighs. “…here you are, begging in ways even words can’t capture.”
He let his thumb linger, gently sweeping beneath Katsuki’s eye and gathering the slick, salty film onto his skin. He held it there, looking directly into Katsuki’s pleading, tear-filled gaze.
“I told you to be good tonight,” Hitoshi chided softly. “And what did the brat do?”
Katsuki shuddered, hiccupping out a meager, broken response. “I… I was… bad…” His voice dissolved into helpless, ragged gasps.
“You were very, very bad,” Hitoshi confirmed, leaning in closer until their foreheads nearly touched. The cool steadiness of his presence brush against Katsuki like a tether. He watched the subtle shudder of his boyfriend’s body, the way his muscles tried—and failed—to regain control. Without a word, Hitoshi pressed a button, intensifying the vibrations of the toys. The effect was immediate.
The floodgates opened.
He could see Katsuki’s composure crumble in real time. Katsuki’s lips parted, trembling, and a thick, pitiful wail tore from his throat, echoing through the room. Hitoshi’s dark eyes glimmered with satisfaction, drinking in the beautiful helplessness. Katsuki lost it completely, his face screwing up in pure, agonizing distress. The sobs became loud, guttural, broken sounds, the tears gushing uncontrollably down his face, soaking his pillow. Snot bubbled from his nose.. He was utterly, gorgeously ruined.
Hitoshi’s hand traveled low, brushing against the slick, vibrating cock, feeling the desperate twitching that betrayed pure need. He paused at the edge of the tape that held the high-frequency toy in place, letting Katsuki’s panicked glance meet his. Even the smallest movement drew a reflexive buck of the hips, a gasp, a ragged, broken sound.
Every cry, every futile wriggle, every tear sliding down Katsuki’s face fueled Hitoshi’s desire. He traced the line of his jaw, his thumb lingering on the soft, damp skin, teasing the trembling lips with light, deliberate pressure. The sight—the sounds—the total dismantling of the brat he loved so fiercely—was overwhelming, intoxicating, and precisely what Hitoshi had waited for.
Hitoshi let out a slow, heavy exhale, the raw, beautiful sound of Katsuki’s distress a perfect balm to his soul. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring.
“Tell me what you need, Kitten.” Hitoshi murmured as he opened his eyes, now focused entirely on the trembling mouth. He used the pad of his thumb, still slick with Katsuki’s tears, to trace the outline of his lover’s lips, feeling the soft wetness.
Katsuki keened, trying to pull his head back, then fighting the restraints with a desperate, useless thrash that only caused the internal toy to pulse more aggressively. “Sir, please…”
He was too far gone to properly beg, but his body was pleading for him. As Hitoshi pressed his thumb more insistently against the lower lip, eliciting an instinctive lick from Katsuki, sloppy and desperate. The gesture, simple but loaded with meaning, transformed the sobbing whimpers into an urgent, desperate rhythm of want. Katsuki’s tongue darted, seeking the comfort of touch while simultaneously betraying his raw vulnerability, his utter dependence on Hitoshi’s control.
“Ah ah ah,” Hitoshi tutted, pulling his thumb away with a playful, teasing pop. His eyes, dark with amusement and desire, fixed on the pathetic pleading mess of Katsuki’s face. “Do you think you deserve a reward after all that bratting?”
Katsuki let out a frustrated, desperate whine, his body bucking against the restraints. The sight of his rigid cock twitching violently under the silent external toy was almost too much for Hitoshi to bear.
Katsuki’s whine, high-pitched and desperate, was the answer. His hips twitched against the restraints, cock pulsing violently under the dual torment of vibration and Hitoshi’s focused gaze. “Yes… Sir! Please… I… I’ll be good… I’ll be good…” Katsuki slurred, drooling a continuous thread down his chin.
The raw need was the sweetest payment.
Hitoshi took mercy. He shifted his grip, sliding his index and middle fingers—already slick with sweat and his own rising arousal—past the soft, wet seam of Katsuki’s lips.
The sensation hit immediately, fierce and undeniable. Katsuki’s entire body shuddered, trembling as if he were electrically charged the moment he locked onto Hitoshi’s fingers. He latched on without hesitation, mouth moving urgently, wetly, with a desperate hunger that made Hitoshi’s cock twitch. His eyes rolled back, lips and tongue working frantically as though the simple, warm contact was the only thing keeping him anchored.
Hitoshi watched, captivated, every twitch and tremor of the brat’s body etched into his mind—the quivering jaw, the fluttering eyelids, the small, futile movements of hands bound above the headboard. Every muffled cry had already begun to transform into ragged, wet moans, desperate sounds tangled with helpless pleas for attention and mercy.
He pushed his fingers further, letting them graze the back of Katsuki’s throat, eliciting a choked, muffled cough that only seemed to drive his Kitten’s need higher. Katsuki’s movements grew even more frantic, sucking harder, tugging insistently as if trying to draw Hitoshi’s fingers completely into himself. Hitoshi’s pulse raced, drinking in every detail—the greed, the need, the utter abandon of the brat beneath him.
Hitoshi spent a few minutes savoring the deep, wet heat, letting the rough, desperate texture of Katsuki’s tongue worship his fingers. He let the sucking slow the frantic pace of Katsuki’s sobs, grounding him in the simple, intense oral contact.
He was rock hard, his body humming with the exquisite tension of control. Katsuki, the magnificent, terrifying force of nature, was reduced to a desperate, tear-stained mess, literally sucking on Hitoshi’s fingers for comfort and release.
Hitoshi gently began to slide his fingers out, withdrawing them slowly, pulling a long, silvery strand of saliva between them. Katsuki whimpered violently at the loss, his lips chasing the retreating fingers, his eyes wide and panicking.
“No! Don’t!” The protest was a soft, heartbroken sound.
Hitoshi pulled the fingers free with a final, lewd pop, leaving Katsuki’s mouth glistening, wet, and deprived. He lifted the saliva-coated fingers to his own lips and slowly, deliberately licked them clean, his eyes never leaving Katsuki’s face.
Katsuki watched the deliberate act, his eyes flooding with fresh tears of need and frustration.
Hitoshi moved deliberately to the nightstand, retrieving a new instrument of control. The small, black box glinted faintly under the lamplight: a carefully chosen wax kit. Katsuki’s head lifted slightly at the subtle click of the lid, eyes flickering with a mix of anticipation and apprehension.
“You’ve been doing so well, Kitten,” Hitoshi murmured. His hand brushed a damp strand of hair from Katsuki’s forehead. “But we’re not done yet. There’s still so much more for you to feel… for me to see.”
Katsuki gasped at the words, shivering in his restraints. The cuffs on his wrists and ankles bit gently into his skin, a constant reminder of the power Hitoshi held. His chest heaved violently with ragged breaths, lips trembling, eyes wide and unblinking. Every sob, every hiccuped plea, every desperate tilt of his head toward Hitoshi’s presence made the Dom’s pulse spike in ways that were hard to suppress.
Hitoshi’s thumb traced the line of Katsuki’s jaw again, just beneath his jaw, lingering over the warm, damp skin. The scent of tears and sweat was intoxicating. He could feel the rapid pulse of Katsuki’s neck under his touch, the frantic shuddering of his body under restraint. The little high-frequency bullet still thrummed insistently, pressing against sensitive flesh, reminding them both of its relentless, punishing rhythm, while the other continued to press insistently against his prostate, each vibration eliciting a deep, involuntary twitch that made Hitoshi’s chest tighten with desire.
“You’re shaking,” he said softly, almost approvingly. “I can feel how much you want this… how much you need it.”
Katsuki’s answer was a ragged, breathless whine, half cry, half moan. “I… I need… please… more… anything…”
Hitoshi smiled, a dark, possessive look that promised both pain and ultimate pleasure. He reached over with his now-clean hand and gently smoothed the damp hair back from Katsuki’s forehead, his touch soft and deceptively tender.
“I think you’ve had enough of the vibrators, Kitten,” Hitoshi said, his voice dropping to a low, commanding whisper. He reached into his pocket and pressed the other button.
Hitoshi watched Katsuki struggle against the restraints, chest heaving, lips trembling, eyes wild and desperate. The frantic buzz of the vibrator against the cockhead abruptly ceased as Hitoshi pressed the button in his pocket. Silence fell, heavy and disorienting, broken only by the deep, pulsing throb of the toy left inside.
Katsuki’s eyes rolled back, pupils blown wide, mouth opening in a silent, desperate scream. His hard cock twitched violently against nothing, as if searching for the lost stimulation.
“No! P-please, Sir,” Katsuki begged, his voice cracking, thick with sobs. “I’ll be good, I promise! Just let me—”
Hitoshi’s voice cut him off, firm and unyielding. “No.” He reached for a candle, striking a match and letting the small flame flicker brightly in the dim room. The glow reflected in Katsuki’s red-rimmed eyes, which now held a mixture of fear and anticipation.
“You’re not done yet, brat,” Hitoshi murmured, his tone low and deliberate. “You need to earn that release. And this time… you’re going to earn it with heat.”
He held the small, red-tinged candle close, letting the wick glow. The fear in Katsuki’s gaze flared at the sight, pure and instinctual, and Hitoshi felt a surge of dark pleasure at the brat’s helplessness.
“It’s time for the wax, Kitten,” Hitoshi purred, leaning close. “Let’s see how beautifully you cry for me when I make it sting.”
He knelt fully at the side of the bed, his dark eyes fixed on the pathetic, desperate mess his partner had become. Katsuki was writhing slightly against the leather, his hard, abandoned cock twitching with frustrated energy. The constant stream of tears coating his face and the raw, pleading quality of his whimpers were a continuous, profound wave of arousal for Hitoshi.
A slow, grin spread across Hitoshi’s face. His brat, reduced to this needy, sobbing kitten, was exactly as he liked him. But before the candle touched skin, he wanted one last tease.
His hand drifted down, brushing lightly against the thick, slick shaft of Katsuki’s cock, still coated in lube and sweat, where the vibrator had been taped. Katsuki jerked violently, a guttural, desperate sound tearing from his throat. Hips bucked in a reflexive attempt to chase relief, face crumpling, fresh tears spilling freely.
“No… no, please, Sir… don’t… I need it, I need it back…” Katsuki’s words came out broken, nearly incomprehensible over hiccupping sobs.
Hitoshi ignored the pleading entirely, savoring the sight of Katsuki begging for the very torment he had imposed.
With deliberate slowness, Hitoshi dragged his thumb along the tape, teasing before peeling it away. The small bullet vibrator was free, slick and pulsing, but Hitoshi didn’t pause. His hand traveled lower, sliding smoothly between Katsuki’s splayed, restrained thighs. He traced the sweat-damp skin until he found the cord trailing from the entrance of Katsuki’s ass.
“You’ve been a good house for my toy, Kitten,” Hitoshi murmured, voice dark, low, and promising.
Every subtle movement of Katsuki—the tremor in his thighs, the quiver of his cock, the helpless tilt of his head—spoke to Hitoshi in a language only they shared. He leaned closer, inhaling the scent of sweat, lube, and tears, letting the intensity of the brat’s vulnerability wash over him.
He gripped the cord and, with slow, deliberate precision, withdrew the heavy, pulsing vibrator. Katsuki arched instinctively, shivering at the sudden emptiness, eyes locking onto Hitoshi’s.
The sensation of the toy sliding free, leaving a hollow, agonizing void where there had been deep, aggressive pressure, made Katsuki's back arch violently. The sudden, dual loss of stimulation—external and internal—was a shock to his system. He screamed Hitoshi’s name, the sound desperate and broken.
“Hitoshi! No! I—cum—need—cum—cum, please, Sir, I’m so close!” Katsuki’s begging dissolved into a pathetic stream of repeated words, his mind unable to form complex thoughts, focused entirely on the desperate need for relief.
Hitoshi held the two silent, slick toys up for Katsuki to see, a smug, satisfied smirk curving his lips.
“Oh, you’re close, are you, Kitten?” Hitoshi teased, tossing the toys onto the nightstand.
He lifted the candle. The wick was burning cleanly, the red wax already pooled and ready to drip. He didn't rush. He tilted the candle, letting the pool build, forcing Katsuki to watch the liquid fire hover above his chest.
Katsuki whimpered, staring at the wax with wide, terrified eyes. His head thrashed slightly against the sheet, trying to pull away, but the wrist restraints held him fast.
“You’re mine,” Hitoshi whispered, fingers brushing lightly against the slick skin. “Every inch… every shiver… every tear. All of it belongs to me.”
Hitoshi let the tension build for a long, agonizing moment, then finally, precisely, he allowed a drop of scalding wax to fall.
It hit Katsuki’s chest, right between his pecs, a sharp, shocking little bite of heat. Katsuki hissed sharply, a startled, painful intake of breath, but his training held, and he remained still, his chest heaving under the sudden contrast of searing heat and immediate cool.
Hitoshi hummed approvingly. “Good boy. Didn’t twitch much, did you? Such a brave little kitten.”
He tilted the candle again, letting the wax drip slowly, steadily, up the soft skin toward Katsuki’s left nipple. He paused, watching the skin there pucker in anticipation.
Katsuki keened, trying to lift his head toward Hitoshi, but the restraints held him fast. His eyes locked on the candle. Hitoshi leaned closer, letting the soft, flickering glow play across his face, giving him the appearance of calm, calculated dominance — an inevitable force.
The first drop hit the sensitive, erect nipple, and Katsuki screamed—a raw, strangled sound that ripped from his lungs. It wasn't just pain; it was the intense shock, the sudden, aggressive contrast on the overstimulated nerve ending. His back arched fiercely, straining against his wrist bonds, pulling his chest even higher.
Hitoshi held the candle steady, letting the wax drip methodically. He watched with dark, possessive intensity as the red wax pooled and hardened over the tight, aching nub until the entire sensitive tip was encased in a thick, insulating shell.
Katsuki was wailing now, the screams dissolving into thick, shuddering sobs, his breath coming in ragged, overwhelmed gasps. Tears were flowing freely and the pillow beneath his head.
Hitoshi, his breathing shallow and quick, moved to the right nipple. Katsuki saw him coming and let out a broken, choked plea—a sound so pure it only intensified Hitoshi’s focus.
He repeated the process—slow, deliberate drops of wax until the second nipple was sealed in a hard red shell. Katsuki was shuddering and thrashing, forced to endure the agonizing hot-cold sensation of pain and pleasure.
“Do you like that, Kitten?” he murmured, voice low and deliberate. “Do you love how it hurts? How helpless you are for me?”
Katsuki could barely form words, his voice thick with tears and raw need. “Y-yes… Sir… please… don’t stop…” His hips twitched instinctively against Hitoshi’s thighs, even though he couldn’t move enough to escape the wax or the burning heat.
Hitoshi leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the damp hair sticking to Katsuki’s forehead. “Not stopping, Kitten. We’re just getting started.” His hand moved with precision, resting on the brat’s chest, brushing against the warm, hardened wax, feeling the taut muscles beneath.
He pulled back, his eyes moving down to the magnificent, throbbing center of Katsuki’s distress. His cock was rock hard, purple and engorged, pulsing desperately.
He brought the candle over Katsuki’s shaft.
The next trail of wax descended carefully toward the base of Katsuki’s cock, the full shaft now exposed after the removal of the vibrator. Hitoshi watched the way the veins pulsed, the way Katsuki’s hips jerked with every anticipation of pain and pleasure mingled.
The first drop landed right at the base, and Katsuki howled, a primal, guttural noise of absolute agony and immediate, overwhelming pleasure. His hips violently bucked upward, desperately humping the air, trying to either escape the heat or bury himself deeper into the sharp sensation.
Hitoshi was merciless. He began to drizzle a steady, slow stream of wax up the length of Katsuki’s erection, from base to tip, letting wax pool and harden in slow, deliberate patterns moving just quickly enough to keep the sensation agonizing but slow enough to draw out the sting.
Katsuki’s body arched violently with each drop, but the restraints held him perfect and exposed. Tears and snot streamed down his already soaked face as he keened high in his throat. His sobs were incoherent, mixing with wet, desperate whimpers and the slick, urgent movements of his hips. Hitoshi let his fingers trace the lines of his body in between drips, letting the tactile sensation mix with the visual, emotional, and auditory overstimulation.
The sight of his lover so completely and beautifully broken by sensation—weeping, thrashing, and screaming Hitoshi’s name—was an absolute masterpiece. Hitoshi’s own body reacted with feral, tense need, but he held it in check, letting the brat’s reactions guide the pace. He traced a finger down the sweat slicked chest, across hardened wax, to the slick, desperately quivering cock.
Finally, Hitoshi turned his attention to the perineum and taint, letting the molten wax hover just above the skin before a single drop landed.
The first bead of wax fell, searing the delicate skin just around his hole. Katsuki shuddered sharply, a strangled whine that echoed off the walls, hips twitching. Hitoshi traced the hardened wax with a teasing finger, letting the slight pressure and heat drive the brat wild with overstimulation.
“So sensitive…" Hitoshi whispered, fingers brushing along the trembling edges.
Another bead dripped, landing closer to the opening, and Katsuki’s back arched involuntarily, a strangled, desperate noise leaving his throat. The combination of heat, restraint, and overstimulation was exquisite — too much, too fast.
Hitoshi pressed two fingers lightly against the rim of Katsuki’s hole, the wax only amplifying every nerve ending. Katsuki shivered violently, a gasp turning into a strangled moan. He tried to pull back, hips bucking against the restraints, but the leather held him perfectly in place, forcing him to confront the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.
“Look at you,” Hitoshi murmured, voice husky.
Katsuki’s moans grew louder, ragged, pleading, his hips twitching and jerking on their own. The combined heat of the wax and Hitoshi’s deliberate touch was overstimulating every nerve in his body. He gasped, bucked, and trembled, overwhelmed by sensations he couldn’t control.
The next bead of wax fell, searing closer, and Katsuki’s body jolted violently. A strangled cry escaped him, breath hitching as he tried to fight the overwhelming pleasure building inside him. Hitoshi’s fingers pressed against the opening again, moving with slow, deliberate teasing that made Katsuki’s body betray him completely.
And then — it happened.
A shudder ripped through Katsuki’s body as the intense stimulation became too much, a wave of uncontrollable pleasure hitting him all at once. His back arched, hips bucking wildly despite the restraints, tears streaming freely, and his voice broke into a choked, ragged scream as a messy, convulsive orgasm seized him. The wax-enhanced stimulation had pushed him beyond the edge, leaving him quivering, shivering, and utterly undone.
Katsuki came violently, his whole body shaking, the cum spurting against his heaving stomach. His tight asshole—still exposed—began to wink uncontrollably, spasming in a helpless, aggressive rhythm, unable to process or retract from the dual shock of the wax and the wave of intense pleasure that had just broken through the pain.
Katsuki didn't stop screaming; the involuntary sobs and screams of climax and pain blended into a continuous, high-pitched wail. He was shaking, weeping, screaming, and involuntarily climaxing all at once—a complete, pitiful mess.
Hitoshi was still with shock and triumphant arousal. The sudden, accidental orgasm, coupled with the sight of Katsuki’s ravaged, beautiful face slick with tears and the involuntary, aggressive clenching of his asshole—it was a blessed sight. He felt a fierce, agonizing pull in his own groin, his control nearly snapping.
Hitoshi quickly put the candle away.
“Katsuki!” Hitoshi gasped, the single word a mix of astonishment, love, and profound, dizzying hunger. The sight was intoxicating. “You beautiful, stupid, messy little brat”
Hitoshi leaned in, his gaze burning. He traced the line of wax that had caused the explosive release—the sharp, sudden sting on the perineum—with the back of his finger.
Katsuki gave a massive, rattling sob, his eyes rolling down from the ceiling to stare blankly at Hitoshi. He was still shaking, his body wet with sweat and the remnants of his release, his voice a raw, choked whisper.
“H’shi… please… no more…”
Hitoshi hovered above him, dark eyes glinting with a potent mix of possessiveness and desire. The brat was utterly undone—a perfect, pitiful, tear-streaked mess. Even after the accidental climax, the twitching of Katsuki’s hips and the soft spasms in his trembling hole betrayed his overstimulated state. Hitoshi’s cock throbbed violently, the sight of such raw, unguarded submission pushing him closer to his own breaking point.
“You’ve been… so good for me,” Hitoshi murmured, voice low and rough. His fingers traced the quivering lines of Katsuki’s abdomen, over the taut, sweat-slicked muscles, across the hardened trails of wax, letting him feel every tremor, every flinch. “All this… just for me.”
Katsuki whimpered, tilting his head back, lips trembling, the tears flowing freely. “H-Hitoshi… p-please… I… I…” His voice broke into a ragged sob, breath hitching uncontrollably.
Hitoshi’s hand cupped Katsuki’s chin, tilting his face downward to meet the gaze of those tear-filled, pleading eyes. He let his thumb trail over the damp, salty streaks of tears. Leaning closer, he pressed his mouth to Katsuki’s cheek, running his tongue slowly over the wet path, savoring the taste of desperation and relief. The salt was sharp, almost electric, and Hitoshi groaned softly, the sound vibrating in his chest as the mix of control, tenderness, and the brat’s overwhelming vulnerability sent his own body spiraling.
“You’re mine,” Hitoshi murmured against the skin, his teeth lightly grazing the soft flesh, nipping ever so slightly. “Every inch… every shiver… every tear. Mine.”
Katsuki’s body twitched involuntarily, sobbing and shivering, lips parting as a soft whine escaped him. “Y-Yours…” he managed to gasp, his voice broken but drenched in sincerity.
Hitoshi shifted lower, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss along the side of Katsuki’s neck, down toward his shoulder, feeling the tautness of every muscle under his fingers. His own cock pulsed violently, the scent, the sight, the sheer intensity of his Kitten's overstimulated, wax-coated skin driving him to the edge.
His hand slid down to brush along the still-hardened wax over Katsuki’s nipples, fingertips tracing the sharp ridges, eliciting tiny, desperate shudders from the brat. Katsuki’s back arched instinctively, lips parting in a choked, high-pitched gasp, hands straining uselessly against the leather cuffs.
“God, Kitten,” Hitoshi breathed, voice low and throaty, gripping the sheets beside him to steady himself. “You’re so beautiful like this… so completely ruined for me…”
His fingers dipped back toward the wax-softened flesh of Katsuki’s perineum and the twitching hole that had betrayed him earlier. He pressed lightly, just enough to make Katsuki shiver violently, and the sight of Katsuki writhing, twitching, and trembling with overstimulation drove Hitoshi past the last thread of control.
Hitoshi reached for his own pants, unzipping them quickly, freeing his own thick, demanding cock.
He positioned himself above Katsuki, his knees settling between Katsuki’s wide, restrained thighs, using the bonds as leverage. The contrast between his heavy, demanding presence and Katsuki’s exposed, tear-streaked vulnerability was overwhelming.
Hitoshi groaned, burying his face briefly into the curve of Katsuki’s neck. “I can’t… not anymore,” Katsuki whispered. The taut, sweaty, trembling body beneath him, the raw, desperate sobs, and the hardened, waxed nipples were all catalysts for a storm that had been building for hours.
With one final, agonized gasp, Hitoshi’s own climax hit him in a violent wave. He shuddered, hips jerking against Katsuki’s ass, cock throbbing, and a hot, pulsing release spilled over Katsuki’s wax covered, sweat-slicked skin. His hands gripped Katsuki's waist tightly, holding him close as he rode through the intense, overdue climax, biting into the shoulder and neck that trembled beneath him.
The scent of sex, sweat, and tears filled the room. Katsuki’s sobs, ragged and broken, mixed with the sound of Hitoshi’s heavy breathing, creating a rhythm both chaotic and intimate. Hitoshi leaned down, letting his lips meet Katsuki’s temple.
Hitoshi's exhaustion was instantly overruled by the tender, fierce possessiveness that always followed a deep scene. He leaned down, his own face only inches from Katsuki's.
“Shhh… shhh,” Hitoshi murmured softly, hands tracing slow, soothing patterns along Katsuki’s arms and chest. “It’s over… it’s okay. You did so well, Katsuki… so, so good.”
He lingered over each tear-streaked line, pressing soft, lingering kisses across the flushed cheeks, the temple, the jawline, until the skin was warmed by his mouth and the sting of tears soothed by his attention. Katsuki’s body sagged into the bed, shivering, fingers flexing helplessly in the cuffs, muscles slack but trembling with residual overstimulation.
Hitoshi pulled back, his eyes dark with soft affection, licking his lips before leaning down again. He pressed a soft, chaste kiss directly to Katsuki’s quivering, tear-wet mouth.
The kiss was slow, gentle, and utterly tender. It was a promise of safety, a silent apology for the violence of the intensity. Hitoshi kept it simple, pressing their lips together until he felt the tension drain from Katsuki’s jaw and the frantic hiccupping slow into deep, shuddering breaths.
"I got you," Hitoshi whispered against his mouth, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "It's over, Kitten. You did so well."
Hitoshi’s hands shifted to the restraints, gentle but deliberate. “We’ll take this slow,” he murmured. One buckle at a time, he loosened the straps around Katsuki’s wrists, pressing soft, careful fingers into the tense muscles as they slowly relaxed. He massaged each forearm gently, circling the tight biceps, letting the lactic acid release naturally, speaking in low, soothing murmurs all the while.
“Easy… easy, Kitten… I’ve got you,” Hitoshi reassured, softening the voice entirely. Katsuki’s whimpers punctuated the silence, a raw, vulnerable sound as his body adjusted to the sudden freedom from restraint.
Once the wrists were free, Hitoshi shifted to the ankles, carefully unbuckling the leather straps and letting Katsuki’s legs rest naturally. He pressed along the calves and thighs, massaging the tight muscles with slow, deliberate strokes, encouraging relaxation. Katsuki’s knees buckled slightly, shivering, and Hitoshi kept a firm but gentle hold, guiding him fully onto the mattress.
“Deep breaths,” he whispered, running his fingers along Katsuki’s inner thighs, careful not to overstimulate. “In… and out… nice and slow.”
Hitoshi’s lips traced soft kisses down Katsuki’s shoulders and sternum, lingering along the wax-coated nipples, lightly brushing the hardened ridges with tender pressure, eliciting tiny, involuntary shivers, but nothing more intense—purely soothing and intimate. Katsuki's body, still twitching from overstimulation, gradually settled under his attentive care.
Hitoshi shifted closer, one arm wrapping around Katsuki’s chest, the other gently brushing damp hair from his tear-streaked face. He pressed a soft kiss to the forehead, then down the cheek, letting his lips linger along the damp skin. “I’m right here,” he murmured. “You’re safe… you’re perfect… you did so well.”
Katsuki’s chest rose and fell in uneven but gradually slowing breaths. His hands pressed weakly against Hitoshi’s chest, clutching instinctively, seeking comfort. Hitoshi responded by running both hands over the small of his back, holding him close, letting the brat feel the steady warmth and weight of his presence.
The aftershocks of overstimulation caused soft, involuntary twitches, but Hitoshi’s careful, attentive hands kept them from escalating. He whispered reassurances, murmuring praise and love, letting Katsuki absorb the intensity of the scene that had passed, his trembling body slowly regaining composure.
Finally, Hitoshi eased himself up slightly, allowing Katsuki to rest fully against the mattress. He brushed a final lock of damp hair from the brat’s eyes, pressing a long, slow kiss to the lips, careful, chaste, and tender, a promise of safety and affection after the storm.
“You’re amazing, Kitten,” Hitoshi whispered, fingers tracing the outline of Katsuki’s sweat-slicked jawline one last time. “Completely, utterly amazing… and mine.”
Katsuki shivered, letting out a soft, shaky sigh, the tension in his muscles slowly fading. Hitoshi’s eyes softened, his possessive hunger tempered by deep care. He stayed close, pressing gentle, reassuring touches along the brat’s chest, arms, and thighs, ensuring the overstimulated muscles relaxed fully, monitoring the subtle tremors that still ran through him.
By the time Katsuki finally settled into a limp, utterly exhausted heap, tears drying slowly on his flushed cheeks, Hitoshi leaned down, pressing one final soft kiss to his temple, whispering, “I’ve got you… always.”
The room was quiet except for the slow, uneven breathing of the two men, the chaos of the earlier torment replaced by a profound intimacy, tender possession, and the satisfied exhaustion of a session fully and masterfully executed.