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Goro always knew that raising his hand against Shido could mean a life even worse than death, he just never expected to carve it out inside of a brothel.
The first few days after he’s brought there amid fighting and screaming are the worst. Chained to a bedpost, forced to do services for any man who pays enough into Shido’s pockets, no way to run. He’s young, terribly inexperienced, and his body refuses to do anything without locking him into a panic attack that makes him struggle and kick and flail until he’s taken care of.
Soon enough, he doesn’t need the pressure of a gun against his temple anymore to do what he’s told. After all, a body is just that: flesh and bones and what he makes of it. Goro has never been a stranger to putting on a performance, so he quickly finds that there’s less of a difference between a camera and a stranger’s eyes.
Many sleepless nights he lies awake and wonders why he’s still afraid of dying, which part of himself it is that was kept alive just so he can follow the orders of a man he’d once tried to kill with a switchblade hidden in his sleeve. Goro remembers clear as day how he received a bullet to the chest instead that just barely missed where no blood transfusions and stitches could have saved him.
He doesn’t even find solace in the fact that whoring himself out prevents him from having to execute just one more name on Shido’s blacklist, knowing that the task will just go to someone else. At least he’s proud knowing that no one will do it as efficiently and quickly as he did, before he got his first order to not kill a rival businessman or politician for once; a boy his age who wanted nothing but to do what was just to him, who was powerless against the influence of a politician with a grudge and enough people on his side that could dispose of those who step out of line at any given moment.
As he read the file, it was as if someone pulled Goro out of his life for a moment so he could have a look at it through someone else’s eyes. He didn’t even want to tell Shido he was quitting; those words left his mouth on their own, and from then on, everything escalated.
Sometimes Goro remembers his eyes from the mugshot in his file and wonders if the silver in them went dull regardless of his sacrifice that was supposed to be rebellion.
Now his days are filled with strangers, all wearing the same leering smirk on their faces, their rough touches against his naked skin blurring together into one unpleasant sensation that makes him feel horrible. Both for letting himself be touched by them like a coward, and for how he still comes from it, from a stranger using him against his will.
Shido never paid him a single visit, trusting Goro’s handlers to keep him in check and remind him from time to time with a crop and some choice words who owns him, who decides over him, who carved his name into Goro’s soul permanently.
It’s pure desperation. It’s misery he was born into. It’s the raw edge of a knife cutting off every part of his body one by one, until nothing that was once his belongs to him anymore.
Today as well sees man after man enter his room, some cruel enough to spend their paid-for time taunting him, some merciful enough to merely fuck him the entire time.
It never gets easier. Something always happens that catches him off-guard, no matter if it’s someone suddenly shoving his mouth on their cock, or a rough slap against his cheek that wakes him from his trance as if he was doused in cold water, clenching inadvertently so that each thrust after that feels like getting speared open with a hot iron.
Someone shoves him face-first into the pillow today and pulls his pants down at the same time. Goro readies himself for the familiar sensation of cold lube against his rim that’s probably loose enough from prior activities already, but it never comes.
Instead, there’s the sound of cuffs clicking, and then his hands are restrained behind him. Goro has to force his racing heart still as he feels his legs being pulled out and restrained by the ankles as well. If he struggles, he’ll show weakness. Weakness gets them off quicker. If they aren’t horny anymore, they will start thinking of other ways to play with him that don’t involve their dick.
“That’s not what you paid for,” Goro bites out, trying to shift to look at what the man kneeling behind him on the bed is doing.
A harsh slap to his ass makes him gasp and hide his face in the pillow again.
He hears him laugh, a nauseating sound that seeps into his body and makes his skin crawl. “I paid for a whore, so I’m going to treat her as such.”
Goro quickly learns why this customer was insistent on lighting aroma candles as hot wax starts dripping onto his back. The anticipation, coupled with the sudden hot stings of pain, made him cry out and his cock harden completely. It’s too much sensation and yet not enough since it’s not the rhythmic fucking he’s used to, too unpredictable and not stimulating him in any way that goes beyond the sick craving for the next drop.
The man has his fun with him, using up candle after candle on his back, his ass, his chest, his nipples, even his dick until the agony of the painful burn pushes Goro over the edge and makes him arch his back as he comes all over himself, adding to the mess already on him.
He barely has time to clean up before the next one; a bulky guy that fucks his thighs until they chafe from the friction, Goro unable to close his legs without the reminder of the cock that came between them. When he learns he’s still got time left, he throws Goro over his lap and spanks him with one goal in mind: to make him beg for it to stop.
Goro has never pleaded for anything in his life, and he’s certainly not about to change that for a random guy who had to pay to strip him of his freedom. It earns him an additional hour of slaps against his reddened cheeks until there are handprints all over him that burn as if he got branded. It’s only bearable because he noticed before that the guy actually had to consider if he could afford another hour. Once he manages to zone out to the sounds of his skin being slapped, he even starts to smile to himself as he imagines the guy having to eat scraps for dinner just because he wanted to rough a random prostitute’s ass up.
The lotion never helps enough. His hands later drop as he’s massaging it in, feeling too exhausted to care. So instead, he lies and he waits. He knows it won’t be for long that he’s alone with his mind.
Each thrust into him hurts against his sensitive skin. The guy cums all over him, then pays more to cuff him to the bed and leave hickeys all over his neck that have Goro wail and arch his back for just any touch against his erection. He’s given no relief.
The next guy is so early that he decides to just keep Goro tied up while he fucks his throat hoarse. At one point, he turns around and puts a ring around Goro’s aching cock, then fucks him raw with a toy until Goro comes dry and finally chokes on the man’s cock, making him spill wave after wave of cum down his throat.
It’s heaven, it’s hell, it’s purgatory. Sometimes Goro loses his mind and decides he needs pleasure more than he needs freedom. Those are always his most blissful moments, and it’s what makes him thrust back or moan louder. Enticing them to be harder, rougher. Fuck him so stupid it all ends.
Once he’s allowed to rest for the day, Goro is not sure if it feels as if only a few hours or an entire week have passed. He lies on the bed, knowing he has to change the sheets, has to drag himself into the shower, naked and covered in cum as he is. The golden boy of the brothel, the one you can do anything with as long as he can still walk away from it by the end, and even that is negotiable for the right price.
With a dazed grin spreading over his face, Goro realises that he’ll at least not be in debt to Shido anymore for when he’s paid for his apartment and education in the past, given that he must have made double what he probably spent on him in his time here already.
It feels like a small victory, like something that belongs only to him, and these things are hard to come by these days. Every evening when he looks into the mirror, he sees another part of himself missing, the circles under his eyes growing darker, his hair thinning from how little he’s eating.
It should be scary. Instead, the change tells him that at least time is still passing. Time brings change, and change provides opportunities to escape this, no matter which way. He just has to endure it a little bit longer.
Goro has seen and experienced everything by now, and as disgustingly aware he is of every act performed on him, with him, inside him, he can’t be frightened by anything anymore.
Or at least he convinces himself of that to sleep soundly at night.
He’s kneeling. It shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary; it’s just a position, even if it’s a humiliating one. Yet he still feels on edge like never before, head sunken low, hands held together at his back, all in an act of fake respect.
Respect for his father, of all people.
Goro hasn’t seen him in what feels like months, and while it should lessen the impact, the moment he found out Shido claimed him for the entire weekend, it was as if a dam broke inside him and all the emotions he carefully kept at bay spilled out into a flood of panic, threatening to drown him.
They made sure to take away all of the few personal belongings he had before telling him, as if already knowing he’d rip out every last bristle of his hairbrush to try and use as a lockpick for the small window in the top right corner of his room. Or worse, try to ram them through his throat until he stops breathing.
Goro feels naked and exposed, and all he’s doing is kneeling to the monster that brought him into this world just to make him his property. As if that wasn’t bad enough, there’s a plug in his ass, hidden under his clothes, keeping him open and ready for anything. While he should be used to the pressure by now, given how he’s forced to wear it all the time, his current position makes him all the more aware of it. All the more ashamed.
“That’s more like it.”
Shido’s voice is louder than bombs in the silent room, even if it betrays no emotion. He’s speaking in that stern tone that once made Goro so anxious to please him, to do anything to change it to hold the slightest hint of approval in it so he’d get acknowledgement for all that he’s ever done for him, stopping at almost nothing.
He was such a fool for ever thinking he was one step ahead of Shido.
Even now, he can’t keep his body from reacting, his blood boiling with both anger and fear and eagerness to move, to stand up and do something instead of being stuck in this limbo at the feet of the man he hates more than anyone has ever hated someone before. Why can’t he just be a random customer? It would be so much easier to turn off his mind.
I wanna cut off your face and replace it with that of a stranger, he wants to say.
“Yes, Shido-san,” is what comes out instead in a voice that doesn’t belong to him.
“That’s not how I want you to address me today, and you know it.”
Goro swallows harshly. His lips quiver as he parts them to speak, taking a moment longer than he should to say the words he never wanted to even think again.
“... Yes, father.”
He knows it’s less Shido caring about how he’s addressed and more that he knows how much Goro hates to acknowledge him as his father. Just another way to torture him.
Goro feels sick.
There’s no acknowledgement of him complying; there’s no sound at all in the room for a few moments. Not even a breath to be heard except Goro’s own laboured ones he desperately tries to keep under control. Nothing in his sight except the shiny tar black of Shido’s shoes and his pale knees, marked with dark bruises.
The anticipation makes his insides twist coldly. Anything would be better than this waiting game where Goro doesn’t know what Shido’s intentions are. Not knowing anything at all, except that for the next 48 hours, Goro is not his own person anymore, if he ever has been in the first place.
The wait ends abruptly.
“I’ve heard there’s a whore in this brothel who doesn’t know how to be respectful towards clients,” Shido says slowly, each word sharper than a knife. “While it shouldn’t be my business what happens with my property once it’s rented out, I am very concerned about how misbehaviour can impact my image.”
Cold fear winds around Goro’s heart and strings tight like wires, and before he can say something, anything to fight back and save the last remnants of his pride, there’s a harsh kick into his stomach that has him cry out and double over.
It hurts more than anything ever did. It hurts more than physical pain should.
“I’m— I’m sorry, father,” Goro wheezes, eyes wide as he stares at the ground, hands shaky at his sides, breath coming in rapid bursts. “I will behave, I—”
“I don’t believe you.”
There’s a hand in his hair, gripping him so tightly, he has to bite on his cheek to not cry out again. Then Shido pulls him up. Goro stumbles, and he can’t keep the fear out of his eyes as Shido yanks him to be on eye level with him.
Where he expected anger and dissatisfaction, there’s only cold emptiness. As if Goro doesn’t deserve a single emotion, as if he’s no more than—
Property. That’s what Shido called him.
In the end, he’s only an asset. A son to Shido is a tool that was born for him. An assassin, a whore, a pawn. No matter what he might need, Goro will always be what Shido makes of him.
He was doomed from birth.
Goro keeps quiet, not meeting Shido’s eyes, not even as he’s released and able to stand up properly. He doesn’t; not fully, at least. He fears the consequences of daring to rise to his full height.
He knows things can always get worse when it comes to Shido.
“That bench in the back. Pull it to the middle of the room, then take your clothes off.”
Goro swallows hard at the words, even if he’s glad for the opportunity to turn his face away from Shido just to escape his hard gaze.
The bench is unassuming, but Goro had some of his worst hours in the brothel strapped to it. A pad that looks softer than it is in the middle, the size of his waist, shackles for his ankles in various places, and velcro straps to secure his body as needed. Goro already feels the ghost sensation of being restrained just looking at it, and suddenly, his legs feel a lot shakier than they should.
He didn’t expect Shido to make things sexual, and it makes his gust twist with the uncertainty of the situation. Maybe he just wants him secured to beat the shit out of him? Goro ignores the fact he was ordered to take his clothes off as well.
Heavy steps with legs that shouldn’t tremble so much in front of Shido take him to the back of the room, and there’s a split second in which he hesitates and thinks about repeating past mistakes. Heaving the thing up into the air with strength he doesn’t possess anymore, bringing it down on Shido’s head, beat him with it so he feels just a fraction of the pain he had caused Goro and so many other people, not stopping until his eyes that Goro fears so much turn hollow and lifeless.
“What are you waiting for? We’re on a timer here.”
Only Shido would call the entire weekend, and more days if he so desires, not enough time to hurt Goro.
Trying to shut off the flow of panicked thoughts, Goro does as he’s told, pulling the bench back and adjusting it until it’s right in the middle of the room. Shido watches him silently with crossed arms throughout it, and Goro hopes he doesn’t notice how weak his limbs are compared to months ago when he was still capable enough to be accepted in his close circle.
Sometimes he wishes he would have never acted on impulse, that he had planned his attempt on him so thoroughly Shido would have had no chance to escape his blade. It feels like all he’s forced to do now is a result of his own failures, like everything else in life has been so far.
Shaky hands reach up to grip the collar of his shirt, remembering how it usually works out when he decides to not do what Shido says.
Taking his clothes off in front of Shido is a new kind of humiliation. The shame has never weighed on Goro this heavily. This is his father—is he going to hurt him while he’s tied to that thing and can’t do more than take it? Or worse, what if he fucks him?
Goro is glad he hasn’t even touched his breakfast this morning after seeing who would have him from the evening on. The feelings he has just imagining Shido using his body for his pleasure make him delirious, like the world is spinning around him with nothing to hold onto.
Shido raises an eyebrow at him, and Goro almost misses the cue. Shutting his thoughts off, he finally takes off his white shirt and pants. No belt, not even a zipper. Everything he is and wears, designed for easy access.
He doesn’t look anywhere but the ground as he takes everything off and folds it to put on the nightstand, hesitating briefly at his underwear before remembering that Shido would just tell him to take them off anyway.
Being naked in front of him is humiliating in a whole new sense, though. The plug burns, reminding him of what he is these days: a hole and nothing more.
Goro’s hands ball into fists at his sides, only looking at Shido from the corner of his eyes. A hot shiver runs down his spine as he sees his father’s eyes travel lower and over his bare form, blatantly looking at him, but not with desire. It’s as if he’s assessing him.
Goosebumps prick Goro’s skin, a shiver racking through him involuntarily that has him suck in a breath, and he’s horrified when that is finally what brings heat to Shido’s gaze. Heat he never expected to be there, that he never wanted to encounter so it would never clash with the conflicting feelings inside him.
Like back when Shido drank too much after barely winning in the polls and ordered Goro to refill his glass for him, groping his ass as he did so, pulling him closer and staring at him in a way Goro remembered his mother’s suitors looked at her in the past.
It stayed at only that back then, but Goro has always known that that would change one day, the ghost sensation of a rough palm on his behind haunting him in his sleep from then on.
On bad nights, making him wish more had happened just so he could stop wondering about what it would feel like.
He feels like prey about to be devoured, and he doesn’t know what’s worse: continuing to look away, or meeting Shido’s eyes and having him mistake his defiance as an invitation, which might as well be the case with how his body reacts out of his control.
Luckily, Shido makes the choice for him.
“Get into it already, Akechi. You not showing initiative is what gives you such a bad reputation and makes you such a disappointment.”
“... Yes, father.”
Whatever Shido is planning, Goro is about to find out. He has a feeling that he already knows, though, and after months, if not years, of fearing it, the idea that it’s about to happen makes him almost dizzy with how sick he feels.
Nevermind how his traitorous cock is twitching at the idea.
He turns to the bench and gathers together the last of his strength to shut his mind off as he bends over it, effectively presenting his plugged hole to Shido on a silver platter. Lying on the pad, gripping the front of it, he feels his heart beat in his throat and his face get hotter, the anticipation killing him.
The bench is not designed to bend over, but Goro hopes Shido won’t take a closer look at where the shackles are placed and realise that. He doesn’t think he can bear looking him in the eyes right now; not like this, naked and vulnerable and defenceless.
His mind runs a mile a minute with images of what Shido could do to him like that. The wait is worse than any act, especially when nothing happens at all for seconds that drag on longer and longer.
Then, he hears a quiet scoff.
“You’ve been avoiding looking at me an awful lot. Or are you that eager to show your ass? Pathetic whore.”
Goro’s lips quiver. “No, I’m not.”
He knows talking back was a mistake when he feels the sudden sting of a palm against his ass and cries out from both surprise and pain, immediately feeling ashamed of himself for having made any sort of noise in front of Shido and hiding his face in the pad below him.
“Don’t lie to me. Those months must have at least been good for something. Or are you that eager to get punished for your disobedience instead?”
Another harsh slap against his butt cheek, and Goro grits his teeth, biting back another sound that threatens to escape from the rough treatment. His hole clenches around the plug, and the pressure makes him want to moan out with how overwhelming it feels.
He stays quiet, though, not even defending himself from Shido’s accusation. Knowing that no matter how he answers, as long as it’s not utter humiliation, Shido will find a way to twist it around on him.
Another moment passes, tense and filled with static that ripples across the room.
Then another slap.
“You’re gonna learn to shut your mouth and be obedient from now on, whore.”
Goro is so concentrated on bracing himself for the sting that he almost misses how Shido’s voice turns a bit angrier, holds more bite, and is losing the slightest fraction of control. He cherishes it; anything that shows Shido has flaws is worth the pain in his eyes. Maybe one day, he can weaponise that knowledge and finally put him in his place for all he’s done to him—
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Goro sucks in a sharp breath and holds tight onto the bench.
“Are you enjoying this? Of course, you are.”
His skin tingles whenever Shido’s hand comes down on it, and he silently begs for it to stop. It’s not painful yet per se; he knows that will change soon, though.
Sure enough, after another few slaps, his skin starts to burn, and each slap against it feels like a hot iron branding him, the pain intensifying each time Shido’s palm comes down on his ass.
Goro pants harshly, nails digging into the pad until his knuckles turn white, eyes squeezed shut as he tells himself to endure it. He’s no stranger to getting spanked; at least the pain makes him forget it’s Shido who’s doing it.
Or that he’s using his palm instead of the crop hanging on the wall in the back, or even just his belt. That there’s force behind his slaps that speaks of him actually enjoying this for more reasons than just being able to put Goro in his place. That sometimes, his palm lingers for a moment and makes Goro shiver with the yearning for something more he can’t and doesn’t want to think about ever.
So he stays still, and he takes.
The noises of him getting spanked sound obscene in the small room. When Shido changes the angle and hits closer to his thighs instead, a quiet whimper gets pulled out of Goro.
Shido huffs. “Getting off on punishment. At least that makes you a better whore.”
Only then does Goro notice that he’s hard, cock pressing up against the bench, and he bites his lip to keep himself from denying it, knowing it will just earn him even worse treatment.
Shido doesn’t ease up on him anytime soon, and it takes a particularly harsh series of slaps against the same spot for Goro to cry out pitifully and stop counting the hits in his head.
From then on, time is like a blur, something he’s become all too familiar with during his time at the brothel. His cheeks feel numb from the pain, yet the sting of each slap still cuts through his body like sparks of electricity, making sure he stays awake enough to experience everything.
Despite that, he feels as if he’s floating five steps away from his body. It takes him a long time to realise that the slaps have stopped, and even longer to blink himself awake again.
There’s the sound of a belt coming loose. He only barely recognises it.
“Turn the fuck around and get into this thing properly before I make you.”
The command seeps into his brain and takes root, moving his body up even with how exhausted he feels. His cock is hard and leaking against his stomach, and he doesn’t know if he already came or has been on edge all this time.
Not that it matters much once he turns around and sees Shido again.
His posture is stiff, his movements agitated as he’s fumbling with his pants, and Goro can’t tell if he’s horrified or delighted by how affected Shido is. There’s an obvious bulge in his pants, a slight redness to his cheeks, and a hunger in his eyes.
All because of him. He did that. He cracked him, finally.
He can’t even manage to be horrified at the idea of his own father fucking him. In the back of his mind, he had always known it would come to this one day, if not in reality, then at least in his imagination.
Goro’s body sinks back down on the pad almost automatically, and he takes a shaky breath as there’s pressure against the sensitive skin of his ass, shuffling to get into a better position. Shido’s eyes roam his body hungrily, and Goro feels so desired he wants to crawl out of his skin and leave it with Shido forever.
Shido pushes his legs up and against the bench frame, and Goro’s heart starts racing once he hears a click and feels the cuffs closing around his ankles.
He’s completely spread out now, and seeing Shido framed by his legs is a sight he never wanted to experience ever. Even worse, once he’s secured his legs properly, Shido wastes no time and grabs his wrists to force them into the cuffs at his sides as well.
Goro can’t do much other than look on in horror.
It’s not as if he had much freedom before, but being stripped of even the right to move freely always makes cold anxiety claw at his chest.
Only now does he realise that Shido quite literally locked him into a position where he’s forced to look at him.
No, no, no. Anything but this.
Goro can’t bear to look at Shido while he’s in this vulnerable position, not after all he’s done to him. He remembers being in the hospital after his attempt on Shido’s life and him having visited once just to inform him that he’ll get transferred to something that would fit him better. Like an employer talking about making him take out the trash from then on.
Goro has never felt more humiliated than lying there unmoving in his hospital gown with the machines keeping him alive whirring in the background, weak and pathetic, a failure on all accounts, only able to convey his hatred with his eyes.
Looking at Shido now as he shoves his underwear down just enough to free his cock, hard and angry, Goro knows now this will feel worse. Naked and about to get used by his own father to get off.
Despite everything, he has to obey. Assimilate to lessen the pain and make it easier, leave his body and mind working well enough so that he hopefully gets a chance to get back at Shido one day. If he bites and is difficult, Shido will make it worse, and a past Goro would have snarled at him and accepted the challenge.
This one has too many cracks, though, worn and weary and clinging to the slightest chance he has at less, less, less than what he has to endure.
He bites on his cheek, then turns his head to the side and tries to think of anything that isn’t his father’s cock so close to his hole.
“Trying to hide again? You never learn.”
A startled moan escapes Goro as Shido pulls the plug out of him in one swift move, carelessly tossing it aside. Taking shaky breaths, Goro watches how Shido pulls out a bottle of lube, and he’s so frightened by its mere presence that he doesn’t even register the cold sensation of it against his rim.
Shido planned this; he didn’t just randomly decide to fuck his son, he actually went here with the intent to break Goro with more than just the usual punches.
There’s a new pressure against his fluttering rim just a moment later, and it rips Goro out of his realisation and makes his head whip back to the front. The sight of Shido guiding his cock to his hole makes Goro’s skin prickle, and he can’t keep his dick from showing how affected he is, even as the rest of him feels like screaming.
The pressure increases, but Shido stills and looks up at him before he can breach him completely.
A disgusting sneer spreads over his face.
“Oh, so that’s how it is. Really, I should have known.”
One swift movement and his cock slides inside of Goro, knocking the breath out of him even with the plug having kept him loose enough to fuck all day.
Goro trembles and stares to the side with wide eyes. Shido is inside him. He’s fucking him, he’s fucking his own son, he’s getting off to him—
The flow of thoughts stops as Shido pulls back and slams back in, and Goro soon finds he doesn’t have much capacity for thought anyway as he sets a rhythm that has him cry out on each thrust with how intense it is.
Shido is clearly fucking him to hurt him first and get off second, grinding his cock into him and hitting all the right angles that make Goro whine pathetically, the pressure being so much he instinctively wants to move away from it. His limbs jolt in their bindings, body thrashing to get away, but Shido doesn’t ease up. If anything, his struggling pulls a groan out of him, and Goro hates how much he cherishes it.
“How does that feel, Akechi?” Shido asks, voice dripping with amusement. “Getting off on being fucked by your own father. I bet this was what you wanted all along.”
“No—” Goro starts before biting his lip as he remembers that talking back has never earnt him any favours. It’s so hard to cling to what he wants and what he needs in this situation, though, unable to think past the weight of Shido’s cock inside him, the friction against his inner walls each time he slams in like Goro was born to be his hole only.
In a way, that might be true, and turned on as he already is, the idea makes him feel grossly hot and makes his hips jolt on the next thrust.
Shido’s laugh when he doesn’t hold himself back is ugly and cold.
“You’re still denying it, yet your body keeps asking for more. When will you reach your limit and admit what a fucking whore you are?” He reaches forward to yank Goro’s head back to the side by the chin, forcing him to look at the sick look in Shido’s eyes, how his lips part in a grin to reveal sharp teeth. “How about I fuck you all weekend? Stuff your loose pussy until you become pregnant with it, just like she did back then.”
The memory of his mother cuts through the bliss like an electric shock, and the thought of ending up like her, repeating the cycle of abuse and becoming Shido’s fucktoy until he’d throw him away as well—
It’s this that finally sends Goro over the edge, making his mouth fall open in a loud, desperate moan as his hips shove back to ride out his orgasm as he comes untouched. For a second, everything turns to hot bliss that drowns him under its weight, his entire world narrowing down to Shido’s cock burying itself into him.
Then, a hand wraps around his cock, and Goro screams.
He jolts as overstimulation pulls him out of his haze. Shido keeps fucking him harder while stroking him, holding him in place with the other hand while Goro tosses and thrashes to get away from his touch.
It’s too much; it’s more than he can handle, and he feels like the mix of pain and pleasure will make him go delirious. His mouth is wide open and his eyes are rolling up as he can’t do more than take it, securely strapped to the bench, with no chance of escape.
Maybe he comes again, or maybe he never stopped coming at all. It’s all a blur as Goro struggles against his bindings to get away, crying out from how overwhelmed he is, telling Shido to stop with a voice that’s neither as loud nor as decisive as he wants it to be.
“Beg harder,” Shido laughs. “You sound just like your mother when you do.”
“Don’t—” Goro starts, but Shido shuts him up with a hand around his throat.
Don’t bring her up, he wants to say, but as his mouth falls open, no sound leaves him. Panicked eyes look up at his father as he chokes him while fucking him, legs and arms protesting the bindings again. Shido tightens his grip, and suddenly, Goro's entire airflow is cut off, only weak coughs leaving him that make it even harder to breathe, and his body goes into overdrive, telling him he’s suffocating, that he’s dying—
As soon as he’s released, another orgasm hits him, hot tears spilling down his face as he rocks up with the unwanted pleasure. He only vaguely registers Shido shoving into him hard and then grunting as he empties himself into him as well.
“Fuck, Akechi, you even feel like her, fuck—”
Shido thrusts into him a few more times, breathing heavily and cursing under his breath, and Goro’s body jolts each time he brushes his prostate again, so close to begging him to stop again, but with more desperation clawing this time.
Once Shido finally moves back and pulls out of him, Goro trembles with his body stiff for a few more seconds, residual pleasure and pain rocking his body. Then, he sags against the bench in exhaustion, glassy eyes staring at the ceiling as he tries not to think about how his own father’s cum is dripping out of his abused hole. The fog lifts agonisingly slowly, and it only leaves behind nothingness. Static.
His father fucked him, and Goro got off to it for more reasons than just the physical sensation.
He hears a zipper and the sound of clothes rustling, but he’s too tired to lift his head and watch. If Shido decided to kill him now, Goro would not care. Nothing can be worse than this, even if it’s relieving, in a way: he can finally stop wondering if, when, and why it will happen.
That leads him to a question, though. Will this become a regular occurence?
Goro really hopes now it will be a swift death, even if it would be nice to be untied first.
Nothing like that comes. Instead, Shido gets dressed, then moves next to where Goro is strapped to the bench, looking as if nothing ever happened except for the faint redness on his cheeks.
“Well, that was as disappointing as I expected it to be,” he says, and ice courses through Goro’s veins, a voice inside him outraged that he wasn’t good enough even like this—
“All the more reason for you to fuck off,” he spits out before he can stop himself.
Surprise flickers across Shido’s face, and Goro immediately regrets his slip of the tongue, but then he breaks into booming laughter.
“Still got some fight left in you, I see. Maybe I’ll stay a bit just to see how long you can keep it up.”
He’s about to bite back that he claimed him for the whole weekend anyway when understanding hits him like a freight train. Suddenly, breathing is a lot harder, his position too vulnerable, the shackles too tight around his wrists and ankles.
Goro finds his pride again, and he snaps and shouts curses and threats at Shido, struggling more than ever against the bench that might as well feel like a guillotine by now. The exhaustion that sits deep inside his bones is barely noticeable as he kicks his feet back against the frame, tries everything he can to get out, get his revenge, and burn this brothel to the ground with him at the centre.
Shido seems to be, at most, amused at his attempts as he stands in the doorframe and talks to the security. He doesn’t even bat an eyelash as he takes a seat at the other side of the room in a chair brought in just for him. Even when the first men enter the room and slap a hand over Goro’s mouth to muffle his screams as they sink into him, there’s not a single reaction other than the utter satisfaction of his victory in his eyes.
It’s only hours later when he leaves, when Goro’s eyes have already gone vacant. Body limp like a ragdoll to be moved around in any way, as long as it pleases the men gathered around him. Intent on using him until he was no more than empty packaging to be thrown away.
His thoughts have long since slipped into nothingness, mind blank, body numb as if he’s not even in the present anymore. It’s almost like watching the things happening to him through frosted glass: blurry and far away, even with how every change of angle or new touch on his body makes him shiver and pulls him just the slightest bit out of it. Just enough to never truly pass out and forget what’s happening.
He thinks something inside him breaks permanently, or maybe he’s just finally growing tired of glueing it together to pretend it’s whole time and time again.
Whatever it was, Goro thinks he’s better off without it.
Shido got what he wanted: Goro is docile from that day on.
When he sinks to his knees now and shows initiative, it’s no longer to speed things up. When he prepares and puts a plug into himself in between customers, it’s not about being ready for the next one anymore.
He still thinks of escaping these walls someday, but now it feels more like a wish unobtainable in this life, and maybe not quite in the next one as well. Goro stopped trying to reach and open the window in his room. He doesn’t keep tabs on the security shifts anymore. Why should he? It’s not as if anything will make a difference. He can’t escape, and each attempt will only cost him further.
At least there’s still a part of him that fears losing even more of himself.
Things quiet down at the brothel sooner than later, now that the rebellious one is not the talk anymore. The most action it sees is a certain politician with reach appearing in the door, requesting his usual. His favourite.
Goro learned to either endure it, or turn his mind off and imagine a random customer, to the point that Shido stopped bothering to tie him up. Sometimes, it seems like a chance. He could try finding something sharp to attack him with and hide it in the bedroom, could stab Shido with it until Goro had a chance to escape or at least get revenge.
He could, but he’s just so tired.
So Goro pushes it to tomorrow, and then tomorrow passes by, tomorrow turns into a week, a week into a month, a month into a page of his notebook he rips out and crumples up. Each day that passes by leaves him feeling even more exhausted, makes him wonder if he’ll ever have enough strength again to try and take his life back.
If he even wants to try and gather the glass shards up in the first place. Who says he can still build something sightly out of them?
It’s too depressing to think about, so he just doesn’t and lets life pull him where it takes him, which is into the arms of a different man each day.
At least until one night, he receives a customer different from the rest.
His name is Ren, and it’s obvious he’s never been to a brothel before. From how he nervously twirls his hair around his finger and tries to not look at Goro as he strips, Goro quickly deduces that he’s not even here to cross that off his bucket list.
Goro plays his charms to get the name of the agency who sent him, then makes out with him before offering him a blowjob to at least give him something for his money.
Ren asks him again and again what he wants, to the point Goro becomes annoyed with him. He’s about to leave the room and tell security to remove him when Ren offers something that makes him freeze, the other’s voice soft and kind, yet with his eyes glinting almost teasingly.
“What if I blow you instead?”
Goro stares at him for a moment, dumbfounded.
“I… guess you can do that.”
Ren touches him like a lover would, his fingers dancing over Goro’s thighs, his words like a symphony. He looks up at him from under dark lashes as he moves down to take more of him inside his mouth, pure adoration in his eyes, as if there’s nothing better in the world than getting to please Goro.
He comes for the first time in months that night, Ren’s name on his lips.
Goro knows it’s all fake—people like Ren like to play the saviour, and people like Goro have been touched one too many times to be worthy of genuine selflessness. He knows, yet the way Ren comes up and pulls him into a soft yet filthy kiss, the way he cards his fingers through his hair as if he can’t get enough of Goro…
It preys on the last bits of hope inside him not even Shido managed to snuff out.
“Come with me,” Ren says breathlessly. “I’ll get you out, I’ll save you from this—”
“I don’t need saving, least of all from you,” Goro bites out and dives back in to connect their lips once more.
Ren tries again and again as he kisses him senseless, making the most beautiful promises to him until Goro is a shaking mess in his arms and asks him to get out, to leave him alone forever. To his surprise, after a few moments where he’s frozen with what looks like guilt flashing across his face, Ren actually follows the request and separates himself from Goro.
“I… can’t make you, can I?” he asks quietly.
Goro doesn’t look at him. “My place is here. Now leave.”
Later, as Ren’s warmth fades from his body, Goro feels more empty than he has in months. He sits down on the bed, stares at the red walls in front of him, and then he doesn’t quite do anything else for a while.
His head is empty where he should replay the conversation and figure out why he snapped at Ren instead of considering for only a second that maybe, just maybe, there could be a life for him outside of here.
Away from Shido, away from the person he made him.
Goro lets himself fall back into the sheets and grabs the pillow Ren rested his head on when they made out, shoving his face into it and taking a deep breath.
There’s only the faintest trace of his perfume on it, but it’s enough to make him relax and keep it there, his nose pressed into it, inhaling his scent until it hopefully seeps so deep into his core that it fills him and makes him complete. His fingers dig into the pillow, holding it with the desperation Ren had as he held onto Goro, and he yearns to have him back.
Goro stills as his fingers suddenly meet resistance.
He scrambles up to unbutton the pillowcase, shaking it out onto the mattress in front of him. A small rectangular card falls out, and he snatches it up in disbelief.
The thick black cardboard shows a pure white domino mask, owlish with the eye slits in a shape that looks almost playful. Goro is immediately reminded of silver eyes flashing at him and making him promises of stealing him away, promises no one could possibly fulfil.
He turns it around and feels a pang of disappointment as he sees there’s nothing written on it. He tries all light sources in the room, but nothing reveals anything special about the card.
Familiar hopelessness returns as Goro realises Ren likely just lost a pretentious business card or something else. Not much of a surprise, given how heated their encounter was.
Still, why would it be in the pillowcase and not on the mattress or ground?
Natural curiosity that has long since laid dormant makes Goro consider other options, and after prodding and poking the card however he can, he decides to take the easy and most cathartic way out: ripping it in half.
He almost misses the object that falls out of the cardboard that’s actually two pieces joined together. A small plastic package with a hazard sign on it, and a thin, metallic object inside it.
On closer inspection, it’s clearly a needle, and Goro’s heart pounds in his chest as he makes the connection between Ren’s work and the parting gift he’s left Goro with.
For a brief moment, he thinks Ren gave him a different way out of this hell.
Then he checks the notebook by the bedside with his schedule, flips to next weekend, and sure enough: the name Masayoshi Shido has been stabbed through, a clean cut in the paper that left an indent in all the following pages as well.
Goro stares at the page until the kanji blur together as if they were bleeding. Then, he closes the book, holding the little plastic package to his chest and taking a shuddering breath.
He'd have to find a way to hide it until next weekend.