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It started with a dare. A proposition of sorts.
That evening, Rin returned to her home—a manor hidden in a remote forest surrounded by wisterias—after spending a few days at Kaede’s. It had been a normal visit. Nothing out of the ordinary, especially not Inuyasha squabbling with his wife. Kagome, however, simply was not in the mood for his nonsense that day, and after going back and forth with him for a while, planted him face first into the earth with one shout.
When Rin told Sesshomaru, he scoffed. The miko punishing his brother for possible trumped-up offenses wasn’t news.
“ But I wonder ,” Rin had said, as they sat close together on the veranda, “if a necklace like that would work on you.”
Sesshomaru had let out another scoff. “If such a necklace exists, I’d like to see it.”
After all, there wasn't a spell that could call his power down, no enchantment he could not resist and shatter.
Or so he assumed.
First, Rin thought to ask Kagome for help, if her spiritual abilities could be bound to another necklace like the one around Inuyasha’s neck. The miko had her doubts, and concerns. For one, reiki is terrible for demon-kind. And two, assuming she did have the necessary power required to bring Sesshomaru to his knees, which she absolutely did not, that same power could very well purify him, killing him. But she did have something that would prove useful to Rin. “Just a sec,” she said.
Kagome left Rin waiting on pins and needles while she rummaged through a chest. But when she saw her walking over holding a book in the crook of one arm her confusion was visceral.
“You’ll see.” Kagome gestured with her hand, urging her to read the cover.
Rin held the weathered book to the firelight—
‘Youkai Invocation and Servitude.’
—and clutched it to her chest so suddenly her hair blew back. With wide eyes she stared at Kagome.
“There’s a bizarre story about how I got that book. I’ll tell you in a sec.” Settling on the floorboards beside Rin, Kagome poured tea into two cups. “A woman gave it to me,” she began. “Practically begged me to take it. I have never seen someone so desperate to get rid of something.”
Rin leaned towards her. “But couldn’t she have burned it? If she was so desperate?”
“No, I thought so too.” Kagome sipped her drink. “But she was adamant about not burning it. Something about unleashing one-hundred curses on the world,”—uneasy laugh—“but we didn’t want to find out if she was right or not so we didn't. Anyway,” she continued, “that woman was married, and we were there to help find her husband. He had been missing for almost a month by then, and his wife was deathly afraid for him. She said he tried to summon a lake deity—there was a terrible drought that year, you remember.”
“Oh, yes. I remember.”
The summer Rin let Sesshomaru see with eager eyes the soft curves hidden underneath her clothes for the first time, after he spent too much time massaging and rumpling her kimono, not daring yet to explore any further. Of course she remembered.
“He wanted the deity to save his crops. But I don’t think he could read very well on account of him luring a kitsune to his house instead, and a four-tail at that! And you know the stories about foxes. They can make you see things that aren’t really there.”
Quiet. Nothing but the sipping of tea as Rin waited for her to go on.
“He was dirty and half-starved when Inuyasha found him that night, in a dark ditch, and smiling. Weird right? He was smiling to himself in the dark.” Kagome shuddered slightly. Rin shared similar sentiments. It was an uncomfortable visual. “Inuyasha said the kitsune probably made the man believe he was someplace nice, someplace with beautiful courtesans and plenty to eat.... for weeks .”
Here Rin swallowed hard.
Kagome's story was obviously a cautionary tale. But how dangerous could the book be if she was willing to let her borrow it?
Rin opened it carefully. Was a little unsettled seeing the characters written in nervous handwriting on warped paper, but quickly steeled her nerves. She also saw a section dedicated to dog spirits, and on one page the sort of spell she had been hoping to discover.
Of course, Rin didn’t wish to harm Sesshomaru. She loved her Lord husband dearly. She only wanted to prove the thing he himself had wished to see. To make good on his offer and bring him to heel.
It was a dare, after all. A proposition of sorts.
*****
Which is why, three days later, Rin stood before the gaping jaws of Totosai’s workshop. Rumor has it he was skilled with demonic metals and held no ill-will towards humans.
Perfect.
Rin shut the book with an audible snap.
According to the text, a dog demon will surely riot against the spell. And it would be a mad riot, so be prepared. The book also insisted that, above all else, one must use materials resistant to corrosion. That sounded right. Sesshomaru's poison was so potent it could dissolve rocks and minerals into hard glass.
—not that he would ever turn his claws on Rin.
“Who’s out there?” came a gruff old voice from within.
Rin took a deep breath and regretted it. The swordsmith lived in a miserable place. There were smoldering rocks and sulfur that burned her nose and watered her eyes. The heat was terrible. It rose from the ground, distorting the landscape so that all clarity of surroundings were lost.
She wouldn’t stay long. Couldn’t.
“Wait here for me,” she told A-un, who was completely unaffected by the harsh environment.
She walked inside and politely reintroduced herself, then explained what it was that had brought her there. Totosai pretended to not understand. Or, perhaps he didn’t care, laying on the floor, as he were. Actually, it became certain as she talked that the old demon was completely disinterested in every possible way. Far more preoccupied with picking his ear and plucking what he found across the room.
That’s when Rin opened the book and showed him the collar she had in mind.
Totosai sat up straight. “I accept your commission,” he said suddenly.
“Will you really?”
“With unbounded delight I accept. My sole condition is that in return you will bring me something delicious.”
Rin felt foolish. She had been prepared to pay handsomely. The pouch hidden in her sleeve was full with Sesshomaru’s coin. “Wait,” she said, not quite believing what she heard, “you want me to bring you something to eat?”
“If you can manage it?”
“No, I can. It’s just—”
“Then a fine deal indeed!” he exclaimed. “I can hardly wait to eat. But before I begin my work, there is one more thing…”
*****
A few things actually.
In order for the collar to work as intended, Rin needed to gather ingredients from Sesshomaru.
Collecting hair strands was easy enough. His and hers, in addition to several tufts of fur. She also needed to provide a vial of her blood, and not blood from just any open cut or vein, but menstrual. That requirement set her back a few weeks. But it was imperative that her essence act as the desire behind the collar’s will, to be the sole reservoir of what was opposite of youki:
Humanity.
Rin was so fortunate the great swordsmith understood this. Youki is unlike the auras which surround humans. It’s dark and cunning. It seethes, it lashes out. It creeps into corners of the mind and suggests. However, Sesshomaru’s wasn’t a threat to his little mortal wife. The threat was sloppy craftsmanship, something Totosai did not tolerate in his work.
Another visit to his workshop to drop off necessary items.
“Very good!” he praised with a shout. “Wonderful! With these the curse should behave perfectly.”
“Curse!” Rin repeated.
“Why, what else could this be, girl?”
Meaning, what else but a curse may use Sesshomaru’s power against him. What else but a curse may also take advantage of his true nature? The instinct he adamantly swears to know nothing about, but a quality buried deep within him all the same, like that which compels a dog to crawl on its belly at the feet of its master.
One could say few demons are better suited for collars.
Under the influence of that terrible curiosity, Rin nodded in silent understanding. Because what happened with the man and the fox would have nothing to do with her. The hard part was already done. She already had her demon’s high regard, his loyalty, his love. And now, for the sake of proving a point, she would also have him in perfect obedience.
That much was guaranteed, as she watched Totosai’s hammer fall to the anvil, striking white-hot steel into shape.
*****
A week later Rin returned to Totosai’s wearing a face mask.
The stench of sulfur seemed progressively worse each visit, like the knots in her stomach. But those knots were also excitement, anticipation. Few have ever gotten the best of Sesshomaru, and it hadn’t been easy keeping all of this secret, especially from his nose. She’d scrub herself raw every time, but still suspected Sesshomaru was vaguely aware of her scheming, just not with who or exactly what.
It was for the best.
She had good reason to believe he didn’t much care for the old swordsmith.
Perhaps that’s why Totosai was so eager to craft the collar. An old fear of Sesshomaru still clinging to him. Or maybe he couldn’t allow the opportunity to spite the young Lord in a new and inventive way to pass him by.
Whatever his reasons, Rin was sure she didn’t know. For all she knew he was just hungry—and too lazy to make his own sweet buns and dumplings.
“I’m here,” Rin announced as she entered, and holding in her arms steamer baskets stacked six high.
Tototsai was sitting in front of a wall lined with slabs of steel. By his side was a small bundle that was mindfully wrapped.
That must be the collar, she thought. “Is it ready?”
“I smell dumplings. Are all those baskets for me?”
Of course—the food.
She smiled under the mask and set the baskets down for him.
As Totosai helped himself, Rin inspected the collar. It was rigid, silver, and smooth. Cold to the touch with hardly any weight to it. She was unable to feel the quiet energy coming from it though. “It’s a little big, isn’t it?”
Totosai was already working on his third basket. “It’ll fit to size.”
Right, she thought. “And if he transforms?”
“Then it’ll transform with him,” he assured her. “But you can prevent that from happening, if you like.”
Rin just stood there, blinking.
Hard to fathom the collar was that powerful. But she was ready to find out as she bundled it and turned to leave.
“A word of caution,” warned Totosai, turning her right back. “I can’t imagine Sesshomaru will be very pleased with this...”
“Let’s just say it was his idea. A dare.”
Chewing and swallowing: “Oh? Well, so it was.” Totosai stacked another empty basket. Now he seemed to be thinking.
But Rin was already leaving again. She bid him a sweet goodbye and didn’t waste another moment mounting A-un outside.
Totosai was still thinking as Rin flew further and further away. There was something about the collar he had forgotten to tell her. “Oh, well,” he said. “Such a kind-hearted girl. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
*****
Rin walked softly through the manor.
The corridor that led to their personal rooms was long and sparsely decorated. At the end of it, a paper screen which separated the hall and the main room. It glowed red, as if the shoji were open to the setting sun on the other side.
The shoji whispered on its frame when Rin pushed it open. Inside, she saw Sesshomaru in a state of undress, his back to her.
Tucked in one corner of the room was a mainland-style chair, its seat scarcely ankle-high to his feet as he shrugged into a black kimono.
Rin loved him in dark colors. It was a striking contrast against pale skin and silver hair. But what she loved most about seeing him in comfort was what it implied. He always had a habit of disappearing at the best of times. This—along with his armor and swords laying against a trunk—meant he intended to stay with his wife. All night.
Sesshomaru turned to her, and cinching his waist with his sash as he did. Nothing under the kimono. The collar was loose and open, showing his throat and chest. He lowered his long body to the floor and sat, his back to the open shoji screen with a view out into the garden, the dusking red sky setting the hair’s edge of his fur aglow.
“Sesshomaru-sama.”
“Rin,” he said slowly, “the sight of you is good for my eyes. But tell me one thing, and tell me truly, what is it that you've been scheming. Should I like to know?”
Rin tried to contain herself. He hadn’t asked her directly. He was looking at the bundle in her hand, too nonchalant to wonder out loud. But she felt it in his demeanor as his stare panned up to her face.
Taking her place in front of him, Rin sat on her haunches so that their eyes were leveled. “Do you remember the conversation we had some weeks ago, when I asked you about Inuyasha’s necklace?”
“What of it.”
“You said if one exists for you that you’d like to see it.”
Sesshomaru seemed taken aback. All her secrecy for this? “And I wager you believe what you have there in your hand is such a necklace?”
His voice was smooth as silk. Provocative. But right now Rin was immune to his charm. “Collar,” she corrected him. “And I do. I also want you to wear it.”
What was it that made her heartbeat quicken? Sesshomaru could hear it over the trickling koi pond just beyond the veranda it was so loud. She couldn’t have deluded herself about this. Or had she? “Very well, Rin. You always have your way and I will indulge you as usual. But try not to be too disappointed.”
“I won’t.”
It was as though Rin only heard his consent.
In fact, she was positively delighted in spite of his smuggery. Yet rather than raise a question, Sesshomaru let his arrogance be the reason the hair on his neck was lifted with his own hands, as the caution he did possess had a way of being that he was in no way curious of. He eyed the collar with a glance or two, saw her fingers fumbling with the clasp until unfastened, then raised his chin so as to boldly offer his throat to her—and the curse he dared trifle with.
Rin hesitated. “You’re sure?”
He closed his eyes and whispered for her to go on; and when she proceeded to do so, that is, the instant cold metal touched his neck, it immediately tightened to fit perfectly.
Sesshomaru let go of his hair.
His eyes were wide open now, his breathing pronounced. It was a paralyzing moment, but in the next he was on his feet and staring down on Rin, his heart pounding as he searched her face for an explanation. But she could only gasp and say his name as the collar began to glow with a familiar green color.
It crackled when he touched it.
“Does it hurt?” Rin asked, seeming genuinely concerned for him.
He was moving to the other side of the room, and when he paced back his claws were up at the collar; with one hand then two, and trying to pull it apart. “What!” Crackling again. Pride hurting more than his body. “ What!” His confusion was quite evident. Claws couldn’t scratch it, nor could poison melt it. His strength couldn’t bend it either—the collar resisted without so much as the slightest flex. “It’s a curse, a curse,” he said.
The room was so quiet, but Rin was standing and walking towards him. “What’s the matter?” she said, a little too sweetly for Sesshomaru not to notice the unusual inflection in her voice. “Can’t you break it?”
Sesshomaru stiffened. Not with alarm but with intrigue.
Was Rin… Was she enjoying this?
He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came. He opened his mouth once more and still nothing, only staring, as if she had grown another head. It was her eyes, really. Large eyes drawing in the collar’s green glow, but for a moment without their usual luster and shine.
No, he thought.
Perhaps he was mistaken.
But why did he hear phantom commands when he looked at her? Why, he asked himself then, as he stood there erect as a dog, did he anticipate her every whim and fancy? He didn’t understand the suggestion. But there was clarity in his alarm—yes, quite alarmed now. He became worried suddenly, then he became angry.
“So it cannot be melted,” he said. “But surely it can be cut.”
He stepped heavily to where his swords lay,—against a trunk filled with his wife’s things—knocking one down and snatching up the other. Bakusaiga rang as he drew it, gleamed as the cutting edge scraped along the collar, its sheath falling to the floor with a hollow clatter. Steel creaked against steel. A brilliant light filled the room as he strove to sever through, his arms trembling with the exertion.
Again, that familiar light.
Then Rin realized.
It was a valiant effort on his part but hopeless. That light was Sesshomaru’s. He was striving against his own power, and, like his claws, so too was Bakusaiga unable to leave a scratch, let alone cut it.
This must be the riot the book warned about. Had to be. Because from the depths of him he summoned the nastiest snarl Rin had ever heard. A wild, consuming snarl that rose all the way from his chest and sliced into his throat. He dropped his sword, then fixed his seething red eyes on the open shoji screen. The moon was bright outside, but there was no breeze that could explain his hair floating away from his shoulders. With an audible pop his jaw stretched away from his face. He was transforming, and Rin was mesmerized by him—until she realized he was on the verge of destroying their home.
“Sesshomaru-sama, stop!”
And, he did.
At once .
But it was so strange for him. Not only the unnerving sensation of being forced back into a body which, in his outrage, felt 50 sizes too small. It hadn't been his will to stop. He stopped only because it was impossible not to.
Now he understood. It seemed they both realized together, and at the same time. Just standing around, staring at the other in profound silence; Rin too stunned to speak and Sesshomaru too impatient to listen. “I want it off,” he said, his voice tight.
“Come here.”
Was that a command too? Rin had spoken very carefully and his walk was rigid, unnatural, as if some invisible force were moving his legs for him.
“You used my power against me.”
“It was the only way,” Rin said, completely self-possessed.
“Of course it was.”
“You underestimated me.”
“That I did.” He was standing before her, looming, towering. She stepped back in order to crane her neck to look up at him. “Clever,” he said. “Clever, clever, wife. I wish I knew the extent of your cunning before. But now that I do, take it off.”
His tone was harsh, but there was still some tenderness hidden in it for her, affection. No harshness in his eyes either; only remnants of red fading into white, and facial markings reverting back to their usual symmetry. She touched them. Caressed down his jaw before her hands went up in his hair and smoothed his fringe from his face. She stroked him for a while, or rather pet him, then she pulled him nearer. “Yes,” she whispered in his ear. “You do want it off. I can do that for you. … but what’s your hurry?”
First Sesshomaru froze, then he pulled away and froze again. He didn’t know what to think when he saw himself licked, tasted, and devoured by her eyes.
“... what.”
“Can't we play first?”
“This one,” he said, after a short silence, “does not ‘ play.’ What aren’t you saying? Well… go on! Why do you back away from me?”
Confusion coming from him as she inched further away. Anxiety waxing the longer she stood there letting time pass.
“Down,” she ordered suddenly. “On your knees.”
No sooner did Sesshomaru hear her voice, so strong in conviction, he lowered his body to the floor.
Rin covered her mouth with her hand. That confirmed it. He was physically unable to disobey—and none too pleased to find himself obeying that abrupt command.
She was staring and Sesshomaru was on his knees and heaving himself out of his dignity. Through his nose he exhaled a sigh of relief. But it wasn’t calm—it was hot and complicated. There shouldn’t be anything exciting about having his knees reddened by the floor. Yet he was becoming hungry, in a vague sort of way, for a desire so new he could hardly characterize it. His thoughts were still his own, however, only crowded with so many suggestions.
Did he not hate this? He refused to answer the question, even though he was fully conscious of the fact that only by embracing this nascent curiosity might he ensure its gratification.
But Rin must know he had always been content to sit nearby and worship her in silent reverence. Just as he knew his wife, his sweet wife, a waif every inch of her save for breasts and hips, absolutely did not have the nature of a mistress.
The collar.
“You must take this off.”
“Now why would I want to do that? I rather like you this way. Besides,” she added, and with the softest, most insidious smile, “you’re in no position to make demands.”
“You don’t understand,” he said, low and hard. “You don’t realize… Did you honestly believe the curse wouldn’t affect you too? You thought yourself immune to suggestion? You aren’t yourself, Rin.”
“Maybe so,” she said. “... but you are.”
“I—” words left him. There wasn’t anything to say to that. She could be right. It could also be the collar affecting him too.
“Let me rephrase. Have you ever been more yourself? Hmm?” He did not move. In the ensuing silence, his breathing was distinctly audible. “Put your hands on the floor, Sesshomaru-sama, so that you’re on all fours.”
The shock of this command was so sudden that Sesshomaru found himself on hands and knees before he could resist. He smiled at her. But it was not friendly. It was the smile a dog smiles when a cruel hand reaches for it, and completely involuntary. Worse, he had reason to suspect Rin rather liked seeing his fangs, if the secret debauch in her eyes were any indication. He hadn’t bared his teeth at her in fear for so long. Not since their first fateful meeting that day in the forest. But truly he meant his wife no real harm. Merely his nerves heightening too sharply for him, that’s all.
“Oh my, what a face.” In her delight, Rin giggled. Sesshomaru however was on the verge of panting. “I think you might be ready.”
“For what.”
“To please me, of course.” Rin had drawn down on her knees then. She held his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes; dark eyes which threatened to eat him alive. “Now, you can please me in many ways. But this is the simplest way. Understand?”
Rin would forbid him all his wild glares if they weren’t so beautiful.
“ Yes— ” She yanked him by his hair. Yanked the rasp out of his voice so that it became soft. “Yes, Rin.”
“That's very good,” she praised—which was beginning to turn into another problem in itself. She always had, it’s just he might have liked this praise more than he should. “Judging by the look on your face you still have something to say. Yet, all I want to hear is you telling me what I want to hear. What do I want to hear, Sesshomaru-sama?”
Struggling with the question. He sighed. He growled. “You…” he whispered, as though stunned to hear himself repeat after her.
“What was that? Speak up.” This was Rin? Truly? It was her sweet voice, however reproachful it sounded with him, her hand passing through his hair, following the flow of it down his shoulder. “Sesshomaru-sama—”
“—please you,” he finally said, automatically. “You wish to be pleased.”
“Goodness! Can you keep still?”
She was loosening his sash and he could not. He was shaking that much. “Why,” he said. “Why have me this way?”
Rin stopped suddenly. “Because I adore you.”
His breath caught. “You… adore me.”
“Very much.” She touched his face. “You know this.”
“Then let me up,” he said. “Do you for a moment imagine that I enjoy your girlish games?” His voice rose, commanding, cracking. “You think I enjoy scraping on the floor for you, hearing your childly demands? ‘Down,’ ” he mimicked bitterly in a tone that lifted Rin’s brows. “ ‘Can’t we play, hands on the floor, I adore you, on your knees, down!’ ”
Quite the outburst.
Rin had never heard Sesshomaru complain so vehemently about anything. Especially not about anything she had done.
—and after a long moment of theatrical suspense, with happy rigorous nods she said, “Oh yes. I do think you enjoy it. I think you get off on it.”
“No. That’s you. I can smell it.”
Rin’s laugh was high and bright. “Lies? When I can see how hard you are?” Sometimes silence is frantic. He protested too much, said too many words when he normally only said a few. “You know, I don’t think I like you lying to me.”
“Rin—”
“Ah, ah.” She pressed her finger to his lips. “Be quiet.”
However artificial the silence Rin created for herself she thrived in it happily. Perfectly. Something shivered in Sesshomaru when his vocal cords tightened. He managed some strangled little noise and nothing thereafter, as Rin continued to undress him with a frankness that surprised him. His kimono was removed without the faintest regard of his expression, and when he was half-naked, wearing only hakama pants, she rose from the floor and started towards the door.
She stopped, turning to him. “I want you to stay like that for a while,” she said. “Think of your lie while I enjoy a long, hot bath.”
Then she slid the shoji aside and walked out, shutting it behind her.
*****
A few hours later, Rin returned to find Sesshomaru exactly as she had left him—in perfect degradation.
She walked in carrying a tray of peaches and wine. The only light was coming from a single oil lamp burning dimly in one corner. It reflected in his eyes, making him appear like something predatory was crouching in wait in the middle of the room.
He watched Rin as she went around making light, until all six lamps were lit, during which she ignored him. In fact, she carried on as though unaware of his watching. Sitting in a chair, pouring wine, perusing through an old book he had never seen—she was nonchalant and he was a part of the decor. Not so much as a fleeting glance as she sipped her drink, and nothing for him to do but wait on hands and knees and watch. Wait there and watch in anticipation.
He just wished she’d look at him.
It wasn’t until the end of her third drink did she grant him his wish.
Several times she glanced over her shoulder, as though she might at that moment catch him stalking across the floor. But that was an irrational thought. Her command had kept him put and he was still there, watching without emotion but with explicit absorption. A dog waiting for permission to eat. He could move his body from the shoulder down, toss hair from his eyes if it obscured his view of her, but if moving involved lifting so much as a finger it would be impossible. Which explained the splintering noise she just heard.
That was his claws embedding slowly into the floorboards.
Now Sessshomaru had Rin’s rapt attention. She was watching him, and quite intently, from across the room. Then she crossed her legs and put her hand to her head as humans do when they’re bored, or scheming. The stare sent a creeping thrill down his spine. Hers were eyes leering at prey, as if he was merely a delayed delight that was soon to be indulged in.
“You know, I do believe you were right about the collar. I read that the wearer will ‘become more agreeable’ the longer it’s worn.” Curious. He should have at least scoffed by now. Then Rin slapped her palm to her forehead. “Silly me. I just remembered—I told you to be silent. Please,” she urged him, “speak.”
“What should I say?” he asked the moment his throat unlocked. “Rin, won’t you say it for me?”
“So you are in better spirits. Why don’t you come here then? The wine is very sweet—no. Not like that.”
Sesshomaru could move as told, but not rise. So he crawled towards her like an obedient pet, fur trailing long behind him on the smooth floor. And once before her, without her instruction he sat back on his haunches, watching as she arranged a cup for him.
His jaw tightened.
She smelled of lavender, or something like that. He gifted her an entire chest full of bottles of oil last year, each with a twist of paper around its neck telling the contents. She liked mixing them to make new scents. He also gifted her the yukata she was presently wearing; ivory-white and made of shimmering silk—and from the way it clung, not a stitch on underneath.
Wine was brought to his lips by her slender hand. She tipped the cup so that he might sip, but he wanted more. “All of it,” he said, and with another tip downed it all in one gulp.
“More?”
“I want to feel my liver.”
He licked his lips as she laughed and poured him another. Eventually, Rin decided ten was enough for him.
She reached for the fruit.
When she bit into the peach, Sesshomaru had never looked at a piece of fruit so seriously. He found himself unsure what to think but trying to think it anyway. Decided drunkenly that what she was doing was probably a form of masturbation, but swayed ever so slightly on his knees and chose not to say anything.
His musings were suddenly interrupted.
It seemed every quiet moment was an opportunity for new torment, the latest being her standing up without warning.
Rin pulled a ribbon from her sleeve.
Was that for him, the long tied hair?
Her eyes slanted down at him with that veiled indifference he was learning to distrust, and crave. His heart thundered. He felt Rin inside his brain.
Abruptly she pulled at her yukata and exposed herself. With two fingers she parted her pubic lips, offering to scathing eyes her pussy in open view. Sesshomaru stared hard as she spread herself further, only for her to then tilt her head to the side as if to say, ‘Well, what do you think of this? I suppose you want to fuck me now.’ Her exhibitionism put a soft growl in his throat because he knew the game she wanted to play, and that fucking him wasn’t the thing. Torment was.
“Sesshomaru-sama.” Her voice was low and she lengthened his name. “Watch me, okay? Don’t you dare look away from me.” Then she arranged herself on the chair, with her legs spread wide apart. She touched herself, telling him in a sweet little voice what she was doing, described in explicit detail all the things he wouldn’t get to do to her.
Rin could see he was in pain with his need suddenly. He was watching her in the way a man drinks when he’s dying of thirst, on his knees, his cock pushing against the seam of his pants.
“Why do you insist—”
“Keep watching me,” she interrupted, still rubbing herself. “Tell me,” she asked as she took one of her breasts into her hand, “when you transform, can you change into a smaller version of yourself?”
Sesshomaru’s brows drew together. What kind of question—and at a time like this. “Odd.”
Rin suddenly seemed very serious. “That’s not an answer.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
She moaned softly, then let out a breathy sigh. “That’s too bad.”
Sesshomaru had listened as fast as he could. But there was a delay. With a jolt he sobered up quick when he realized what Rin insinuated. “You—” He was so stunned by her that for a long while he just couldn’t say a thing. Moreover, she was giggling. “Why say this to me?”
“To see the look on your face.” Then she just laughed and laughed, scorching him with it.
There was something in her laugh—and the way she fingered herself that would never leave his brain. Until then, until that moment, of such things he hadn't the faintest glimmering. He fantasized about ordinary things, as ordinary as they might be between a demon and a woman. He never thought Rin would be the one to sketch in his imagination new depravity. That she could say such things, and for no other reason than for her piercing delight, made him want to bend her down on hands and knees.
“What are you thinking?”
Listening to the sticky sound of her fingers curling inside: “Fuck me,” he said. Rin’s mouth opened and he said it again; louder, wanting her to the point of bitterness: “Fuck me.”
Rin feigned a gasp. “Sesshomaru-sama… I had no idea you were so vulgar. You never talked to me that way before.”
Never. But he was painfully hard and on the verge of demented impatience. He was tired of that ache. He didn’t want to ache anymore. “Let me finish you,” he offered then.
What was it like to beg? Sesshomaru didn’t know. He might be willing to learn if forced to watch her circling her clit for much longer. There, where the smell of bathwater and her natural musk combined to make a needful aroma. But she wouldn’t accept his offer. She kept rubbing herself as she talked pleasantly to him, murmuring at times in a sultry voice that hers was good and tight. And it was good, his wife’s pussy. He’d slide inside her and curl up.
Finally, to his relief, she stood up from the chair and stepped closer. She was standing in front of him, and when he moved to bring his forehead to her soft belly, she let him.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were begging. Are you?”
“No.”
Liar.
Liar she’ll have to punish in order for him to truly understand.
Slowly, and with one finger, Rin nudged him away. She let her yukata fall to the floor, so that she was completely naked. He watched as her hand went up and disappeared between her legs, and when she withdrew it, let him see the wet stringing along her fingers—and that taunting, provocative smile of hers as she licked them, before shoving into his startled mouth the fingers she tasted first. “Will you beg for it now? Hm, Sesshomaru-sama?”
He might have groaned.
Sesshomaru bit down, not too hard. Then a humming sound, long and drawn out as she jerked her hand side to side, the gesture snapping his head left to right because he was still biting down on the fingers in his mouth. He was utterly beside himself now. Unreasonable. Now, Rin could have him agreeing to anything. It didn’t matter what. One taste of her was his limit.
His claws were at her thighs when she left his mouth empty, inching up to her sex beneath dark curls of pubic hair. Now he started to talk. “Please,” he begged, yet still proud. He was many things at that moment but not pathetic. Rin admired that about him, that even forced on bended knee, struggling and surrendering at the same time, he still could not be parted from his dignity so easily.
“Well, since you asked so nicely…”
She pushed him back a bit, then instructed him to arrange his leg so that she may set her foot upon his knee for leverage. Her sex parted slightly, wetness pooled outside the silt. He licked it, then immersed his face before finally, finally sealing his lips to her clit.
Perhaps Rin should have thought twice about letting him do this.
She gasped out a moan, and then her head was reeling, her hand reaching to grip his hair lest she loses her balance. But she lost it anyway as their roles were suddenly reversed, and during the shift he pushed forward so that she stumbled back into the chair, her leg bumping the tray and sending its contents sprawling across the floor.
Wine was spilled and Sesshomaru crawled through it; soiled his knees but still clinging to her. He ate her fervidly, desperately, devoured her for his pleasure as much as hers. He wouldn’t give her a chance to think, nor the chance to demand him to stop. Her legs were held wider than she could spread them on her own, and he had her exactly where he wanted—at his mercy and with her spine arched so sharply that she could see with wide eyes her sex in full as his thumb-claws held back the delicate hood, watch as the sharp petal of his tongue tickled her clit with flicks of fire.
He ravaged her with broad strokes, until her taut and cruelly contorted body shuddered with one long moan after another, as he quickly forced her to orgasm. Hard.
Rin righted herself at once, before she had finished shaking. “Get down!” she cracked out, and down on his knees Sesshomaru went, his mouth wet and shining and seeming very pleased with himself. “Who told you to do that? Well? Don’t just sit there smiling, I asked you a question.”
“You let me do it.” Sesshomaru tilted his head aside. “And you never told me to stop.”
“You—you’re so…” Rin was so annoyed with him she could hardly find the words. “Defiant,” she managed to get out. “Smug. That’s what you are—and stop that.”
Things were starting to get away from Rin. While she berated him, Sesshomaru had started to stroke himself through his pants. “Why don’t you bend over like you usually do,” he said. “Let me have it.”
He was burning hot alright. But then an idea lit up in Rin’s brain like a thousand mirrors. Yes, she thought, and smiling herself now. She knew just what she’d do to fix him. She'd let him ‘have it’ if he wanted it so badly. “Come here,” she said, slipping back into her yukata but keeping it open. “And you already know how I want to see you.”
Sesshomaru obeyed.
Rin was sitting in her chair again, surrounded by mess; shattered china and half eaten fruit. He felt himself caressed by her hand. It tickled his stomach, it crept to his crotch, then lower to free his cock still straining against the seam. She wrapped her hand around it.
“Hm, nothing?”
Though his heart did throb, he hadn’t uttered so much as a sigh. “You thought I’d faint from a mere caress?”
Rin took a deep breath.
Not today, demon.
Ignoring that remark, she rolled her sleeve to her elbow and set to pleasuring him, keeping the foreskin snapped broadly back as she did. Now he made faces at her; grimacing, staring at the hand working him by means of strokes so tight and in perfect rhythm that he thrust his hips forward. But she stopped suddenly and decided to add to his misery in a teasing manner. She slapped it, watched it twitch in the air as she made magic passes across his palpitating stomach, and when it suited her, took him in her hand again.
Giggling too.
He was groaning and dying from joy and she knew she wouldn’t let him finish that easily.
“Not yet,” she said, smirking up at him.
Another groan as he made unbelievable efforts to prevent himself from soiling her face with fuck. He caught himself shivering, and when the shiver was strongest and his mouth fell open in a silent moan, she let go. But how long must this go on? He so craved a complete touch that he almost swore out loud in his tormented state.
“Rin…”
That almost sounded like a whine.
“I said not yet.”
“Touch it quick,” he implored, breathing rapidly and hoarsely. “I can’t take much more of this.”
“Sure you can.”
Again she started, squeezing him tighter, drawing along his powerful erection progressively faster with long strokes of her fist. Faster, so that his hips thrust mechanically into her hand at first, then in sync with her movement, before stopping and bringing him back from the brink.
She kissed him. And kissing her was all very well—he loved it, loved the taste and feel of her tongue sliding against his. But he could do without right now. She had edged him one too many times and he was half out of his mind with an on-set dire need.
Rin knew this. Which is why, and without warning, she got down and held his cock in her face. “Keep your hands at your sides,” she commanded.
Sesshomaru could not quite believe the warmth of her mouth when she began to suck it, and not in a teasing manner either. Rin was sucking him in earnest, her hand stroking the shaft while she stroked with her tongue. He was there already, his back stiff as a board when, to his anguish, she stopped and settled back into her chair. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could finish it himself, but she had ordered his hands at his sides, content to watch him twitch and come anyway, however unsatisfying it was for him. When he finished quaking, he just remained there, upset, staring, his cock half-knotted and too spent to salvage his orgasm.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Aren’t you satisfied?”
Satisfied? She ruined it on purpose!
“... insufferable tease,” he grumbled under his breath.
“Is that how you feel?”
He didn’t answer. Still staring however, and still very upset.
Actually, another idea was forming in Rin’s head as she looked at the mess he left on the floor. Not much—only a few jets. But just how far could she push him? Why, she enjoyed playing with him so much that there was a distinctive wet spot soaked into the chair's upholstery. Not to mention Sesshomaru wasn’t quite finished. He was still hard. Why not go further?
Slowly, she sat up from the chair.
“What now,” he said.
“Lay on your back.”
Obeying perfectly, he was still sore over her ruining his orgasm, but he was hissing through his teeth when she proceeded to mount him. He twitched when she lined her entrance at the head of his cock. His whole body lurched when she guided it inside. “Don’t move,” she said. “And don’t touch me. Put your hands down.” She was wriggling her hips, grinding hard into his crotch. Too much stimulation too soon. He couldn’t shut up, though what he was saying Rin could hardly understand. She was talking to him too, something hot and filthy and carnal in nature. A question too because there was an inflection at the end of her voice. It was only through grit teeth, and above all with muttered swears and grave threats, that he managed to gasp, “Repeat!”
“I asked if you still think I’m a tease.”
Absolutely. One-hundred percent, he did.
But she was riding him in perfect rhythm, hard, and though he could speak he could not speak words. She felt his hips as they rose from the floor, locking in place, then she felt his knot swelling to such a width that it became physically impossible to lift herself from his lap—lest she take him with her of course, and she didn’t have the strength for that. So, she laid against his heaving chest, feeling herself stretched even further, and Sesshomaru as he continued pouring himself in her, filling her.
They laid in their mess for quite some time, still unable to separate when Rin unfastened the collar. She sat up on him, making him wince—still very sensitive. He avoided tying with her on top for this reason. “Can we keep this,” she asked. “We wouldn’t use it all the time, but I like to think that when the mood strikes us…”
Sesshomaru lay silent for a long while. “When the mood strikes us,” he finally answered, then he pulled her back to his chest. She was still moving too much.