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Peaceful silence.
Something that was more than welcome to you at the moment. The dewy grass swaddles your limp body, making you feel closer to that of a newborn babe than a hollow shell of a man. They left you out here to die, that much was apparent. It’s not like you could even if you wanted to. Your limbs ache for something, perhaps the relaxation of death. Maybe help from another.
You attempt to push up onto your elbows. The muscles stretch and contract as a pitiful groan escapes you. It only takes about five seconds before you promptly give up and flop back down, head hitting the mud. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing your other senses to take charge. The grass cradles your dry skin, raindrops from the early morning rolling off the leaves and moistening your bloodied flesh. Birds sing and dance from branch to branch, shaking twigs and rustling leaves. Nature gives you a moment to breathe. You open your eyes once more.
Danger. Imminent and persistent.
Where did it come from? A horrible sickly aura drowns your pain out and washes it away. In its place, terror. You can’t sit up, even if you wanted to.
Where, where, where?
It snuck up on you while you were preoccupied with gathering yourself. The energy is suffocating - if you weren’t manually breathing you surely would have passed out. The thing moving towards you finally makes its presence known. Heavy footsteps track closer, closer.
“What might this be?”
The thing speaks, voice ringing in your ears. Your shallow breathing halts, as though it will camouflage you. You force your eyes closed.
“A human, down on your luck, I presume?”
That’s one way to put it. The thing moves near, close enough so that you could feel it hovering just above you. Even though your eyes are jammed shut, you see it smile. Wide and cheshire.
“Should I put you out of your misery? I’ll grant you the luxury if you open your eyes to me.”
An enticing ultimatum, though you have something you need to do that’s far beyond yourself. You slowly shake your head. Though it felt more like your neck was jerking your head from side to side erratically.
“And why not?”
The monster asks why not, why would you want to see what this thing looks like?
“You’re in my hunting grounds, human. You should know better.”
How the hell were you supposed to know that? You part your chapped lips to speak before it places a finger half the size of your head to your lips.
“I don’t need your answer. You’ve forfeited your right to do so.”
You shake your head again before moving to speak. Your lips split open, new rivulets of blood trailing slowly down your lips and curving down your chin.
“What.. are you?”
It pauses for a moment, before exhaling.
“I’m what you fear most right now.”
“...Death.”
The monster’s smile grows wider.
“Exactly.”
You relax. The monster makes an inquisitive noise. It shifts above you, pacing around your body slowly. Dead leaves crunch loudly with each of its steps, you can only assume this thing was big. Inhuman. Large hands wrap around your ankles and drag your leg up into the air before pausing.
“Interesting. I thought you were a man, clearly you present as one. Is that why you’re out here, woman?”
You bristle defiantly, ankles pulling back against the beast’s grasp.
“I’m a man.” You rasp out.
It chuckles softly.
“Is that so? Mind telling where your dick is? Or did it grow legs and walk away? Must’ve been a confused whore who never learned her lesson.”
Your breathing picks up the more it speaks. What agency does this thing have to tell you what you are? You thrash around with as much energy as you can muster.
“I’m a man.”
“Is that all you can say?”
Close. The thing was too close. You felt the exasperated sigh against your face as it left its nostrils, breath heady and humid compared to the already damp forest atmosphere. You purse your lips together, forcing more blood out of the chapped cuts.
“Fuck off.”
It lets out a hearty laugh, voice echoing throughout the forest.
“So defiant, little one. I could find a use for you.”
It grabs you by the waist and slings you over its shoulder. Just feeling the thick, corded muscle under the soft fabric it wore…
“Quiet? What seems to be the matter, ‘boy?’ “
You remain silent.
“Figures.”
The walk through the forest is surprisingly tranquil. The usual birds and wildlife have ceased their routines, the main reason currently hauling you out to who knows where. The thing keeps quiet, and your wounds slowly close and fade to sensitive scars as your energy returns to you. Every once and a while, it’ll grunt with exertion, or make a noise of amusement. You watch the dimpled light that typically peeks through the treetops give way to full blown sunlight through your eyelids.
“Do you still refuse to open your eyes?”
You remain silent.
“So be it.”
Your body is draped over the back of an animal. It’s just as surprised as you are, bucking forward. The beast must hold the animal back, before you slowly start moving. The animal's fur is coarse and unpleasant to the touch, but the feeling of a being that didn’t have the intent to kill you was welcoming.
Speaking of animals, what did this… Man… want to do with you?
Torture?
Prostitution?
Maybe a fate truly worse than death?
As your energy returned, so did your common sense. Each thought only made your stomach twist and turn into tight knots.
“Isn’t this interesting…”
It speaks again, causing you to shiver as a large hand trails its way up your legs, stopping at the meat of your thighs.
“Your wounds are completely healed, why's that?”
You ball your hand up into the fur of the animal carrying you and grit your jaw.
“I felt the disgusting amounts of positive energy pouring from your body, even on death’s door. I had doubts that you could utilize it, color me impressed.”
The roads grow smoother as time passes. You take a moment to rest your eyes, despite all other executive functions in your body screaming otherwise. But just as your eyelids grow heavy with sleep, you stop and your eyes fly open.
This place is completely unknown and eerily reminiscent of something all at the same time. You look down at the black ox carrying you and the deja vu morphs into a horrible sense of knowing.
Tall and inhuman. Cruel and unusual. Accompanied with a jet black ox.
He steps into your field of vision and it takes every muscle in your body to keep the bile rising in your throat at bay.
“Do you understand the gravity of your situation now? Do you understand you have no say in the matter?”
The Disgraced One.
Your body gets the better of you and you retch onto the ground, heaving as tears well up in your eyes. He crouches down to your eye level, four eyes pinning you in place.
“Answer me.”
Your breath hitches.
“I…”
“‘You…’ what?” He exhales with an amused smile.
“You didn’t hear me, did you?”
You dig your teeth into the inside of your cheek to quell the chattering of your teeth. He sighs petulantly.
“Well…”
In an instant, you’re flung off and away from the comfort and security of his steed and onto the ground.
“It looks like an experiment is in order! If you survive, do not forget this.”
A curt swipe of his fingers through the air sends an explosion of pain throughout your midriff. You scream out in excruciating pain, long and loud. Tears fall freely down your cheeks, leaving dried streaks of salty water. You jerk your head up to see just what he had done.
Cut in half.
He sliced your entire body in two, innards pooling out onto the ground underneath you. Splintered bones stick out through the bit of flesh not shredded. You turn to face him with a look of pure anguish.
He’s laughing.
Hearty and full-bellied. Sharp teeth catching the light of the sunset as he rears back, head up, laughing out into the air. When catches you staring, he kneels down to you. His hand eclipses nearly half of your face.
“Utter pitifulness. It’s a gorgeous look on a woman.”
Your head spins, you can’t tell if it’s because of the complement or the blood loss. You assume the latter until the telltale coolness registers in your foggy brain.
“You are just a specimen, aren’t you?” He loudly exclaims. He grins, big and toothy.
Your body was melding itself back together. Cells reaching out and binding together once more, pain deteriorating and fog clearing. Once your body had finished forming back together, he scoops you up and tossed you over his shoulder once more.
“I know just the purpose for you.”
You remain silent.
…
Uraume preps the meat that was drying in the wind outside. Once the wind picked up far too much for their liking, they brought everything indoors to begin making Master Sukuna’s meal.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Tune it out, don’t imagine what’s happening in the next room over. They sigh and force their eyes shut. Unfortunately, that makes the grunts and moans all the more obvious.
“…tight… like that…”
Broken words manage to worm through the closed door of the kitchen. Uraume presses a knuckle to their temple, massaging softly. Before, they were unsure if they even had such a thing as a “breaking point.”
With each day of this, they were inching closer and closer to it. They throw down their towel, take a deep breath, and walk over to the door, opening it with flourish.
“Master.”
Lord Sukuna looks up from where he’s ‘tending’ to his newest concubine. The girl apparently has a technique allowing quick regeneration, regardless of the organ. Master Sukuna has spent the past 2 weeks pushing her technique to the limit. At the moment, he has her head pressed into the ornate dining room table, using her eye socket as though it were a vagina. Blood spurts out of the gaping hole where her eye should be. A piece of the bone around the socket has appeared to have snapped and shifts loosely underneath the skin of her brow bone. A garbled groan is all she can muster.
He offers a confused look.
“I’m attempting to fix your dinner, I just humbly ask that you keep your voice down.”
He grunts and lifts the girl like a ragdoll, before making his exit.
Uraume sighs. At least they can cook in peace.
…
“A fate worse than death.”
The perfect way to describe the hand you’ve been dealt. If you aren’t waking up with blood and semen running down your thighs, you’ll surely be coerced into a corner and forced to act out one of Ryomen Sukuna’s depraved fantasies.
Each time you woke up violated and covered in marks, you’d have to scrub and clean any remaining semen on and inside you. The thought of bearing this man’s children sent a wave of nausea over your body. An innocent child doesn’t deserve to be born into such an environment. But he noticed this; he saw everything. He assigned a maid to you to prevent you from cleaning yourself without his supervision.
Having him there was useless, as he’d dirty you right back up. Push you up against the slick, beautifully designed tile and rape you full of his children.
If you prayed hard enough, you just might have a miscarriage.
Manhood was something you barely had. Here, you were forced into feminine clothing. Dolled up and fed to fill out your figure. Your hair grew long and unmanageable and since no one truly knew how to tame it all, it was straightened with dangerous levels of heat.
You were stripped of what you had left and turned into a living, breathing gloryhole. A test subject to see how much you could take before your body shut down.
You had nothing here. It was weirdly comforting.
…
You stare at the wall, the soft duvet does little to make you fall asleep. You don’t turn to face him when you hear the shoji doors part. You just slow your breathing to make it seem like you’re asleep.
“You can’t lie to me. I know you are awake.”
You sigh and fidget under his gaze. You can feel the way his eyes scan over your body, undressing you down to the soft skin with just his eyes.
He kneels down, level with the futon.
Your breathing instinctively quickens, pulse banging loudly in your ears. He rolls you over onto your back and undoes the ties to your kimono, you didn’t have the energy to take it off before going to bed.
The gesture is grossly familiar, his rough palms flitting softly across your torso and chest, stopping at your neck. He runs his fingers over the skin, rucking up goosebumps as he goes.
“A paper doll, that’s what you are.”
You lean into the touch ever so slightly. You damn near hear the smirk on his lips.
“It’s only been 3 months and you are unbelievably needy, little one. I don’t have the time to tend to you like I should.”
His voice is uncharacteristically hushed, as though he only wants you to hear what he is saying, as though someone is listening.
“Best believe, I will make it up to you.”
It’s less of a promise and more of a threat. You shiver. He throws the kimono off of your body, splaying you out on the futon like a meal.
“Look at this…”
He wastes no time, two hands groping at your full thighs and hips, the other pulling the kimono from up under you.
“You’ve gotten nice and plump. I’ve softened you up, doll. What happened to the feistiness you had when we first met?”
You make a noise of disapproval, burying your face into his thigh. He huffs a laugh through his nose, before picking you up as though you weigh nothing.
He drapes you over his thigh, brushing a stray hair out of your face.
The gentleness isn’t a product of adoration or love. He’s inspecting you. You close your eyes and pretend it is.
He places your hands at the lower ties of his own kimono.
“Undress me.”
You make quick work of the ties, pushing the fabric to the side to see what he filled you up with each night. Well, things.
He was still soft, but egregiously big, one on top of the other.
You ball your fists up and purse your lips.
“What’s the matter? Cold feet? You weren’t complaining when I had your head forced down into the floor, taking you for all you’re worth. All you’re good for.”
There’s that smile again. Manic and all teeth, it never really reaches his eyes but it gets the message across just fine.
You hesitate, unfortunately. His smile fades.
“Well, then…”
He hoists you up by your waist, another hand coming up to pry your mouth open. You’re forced onto your knees in front of him.
“If you can’t use your hands, I know something of much better use.”
You frantically shake your head no, struggling against the push of his fingers plugging your mouth.
“No? Are you suggesting we forgo preparation?”
You shake your head even more at that.
“I thought so, keep still.”
He hooks his fingers into the side of your mouth and with another hand in your hair, swiftly forces himself into your mouth. You grab and claw at anything and everything as your throat violently constricts around him.
He groans out through his teeth, all smiles.
Your stomach lurches as he forces your head down, bile rising quickly. You look at him, hoping for just a bit of leniency. Instead he snarls, gripping your hair tighter.
“Don’t you dare.”
You do, but he pulls away just in time for you to throw up pure stomach acid all over the floor. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes as you sob. The pain is unbearable, the situation hitting you like ice cold water, and you scream out. You’re left gagging and dry heaving as tears soak your face.
“Disgusting, perhaps I should’ve trained you while you were awake.”
You’re scooped up and carried out of your room. You focus all the energy you have into not passing out. Your vision shifts and blends, prickling tears blurring everything.
You’re thrown onto a bed, something unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You moan at the soft fabric and curl in on yourself, shivering as the fabric caresses your body.
“So you do allow yourself to take pleasure in things? News to me.”
“It’s not like you’d care to ask. You don’t even know my name or who I am. Who I was before you stripped me of all my humanity.”
You blurt out the words, brazen confidence and unbridled anger consume you.
“That’s familiar…”
You press a hand to your chest, hoping to calm your pounding heart. He takes a step closer, then another. He grips your face and forces your eyes to meet. His lips are pursed and his brow is furrowed.
“I recall when I first found you, you deliriously claimed you were a man. Don’t tell me you still cling to the asinine belief that you're male. I’ve remade you, sculpted your body and made you into the woman you were made to be.”
You grit your teeth, holding eye contact despite his gaze sapping all of your strength. His grip on your jaw tightens.
“Answer me.”
“I’d never forget who I am.”
He smirks, playful in nature. He chuckles softly before crouching down, eye level with you.
“Is that so? Then I’ll make sure you truly never forget it. I’ll show you how others like you get treated. Just remember, this is who you claim to be.”
You’re forced down into the bed by the throat, rough hands and calluses digging into your skin. Your hands shoot out to pry him off of you but two other hands force your arms down.
“This is what you ask for, little one. Accept it.”
You feel him press against you, half hard and somehow leaking with pre-ejaculate. Your feet push at his thighs but a hand holding your neck comes down with a sharp chop to your foot. Your cry is stifled by the hand on your throat.
You only realize he’s pushed into you when pain blooms all throughout your lower half. The whimper you let out is pathetic.
“Still so damn tight after all this time.”
His lip quivers ever so slightly when you tighten up.
“Relax and this’ll be easier for you.”
You simper down and ease up. He groans and doubles over. Watching his face as he pulls you deeper onto him makes your brain fuzzy and warm.
His eyebrows are pulled together in concentration and his breathing is shallow. The gnarled skin clinging to the mask on the left side of his face only adds to how handsome he looks.
‘Handsome…’ When did you realize this? Maybe in this moment, where you’ve been debased to the point where you are no longer human even in the eyes of the most compassionate person, he looks attractive. Beautiful, even.
Your eyes meet and for a moment, an emotion you can’t name crosses his irises. It pulls you in despite you being unwilling as always. Just as quickly as it appears, it’s drowned out by lust. You force your eyes closed.
When he finally bottoms out, he growls out an inhuman sound.
“I’ll pity you and use one at a time.”
Blood and semen join together in a rather sacreligious union underneath your bodies. Slipping out of where you’re gaped around him. You suppress the yelp bubbling up in your throat by biting down onto your tongue. Every part of your body aches in some way, everything is being stressed and strained to its limit. Your cursed technique attempts to soothe the pain, but it only creates new wounds for Ryomen Sukuna to press a lecherous thumb into and force more blood out of.
You dig your nails into his shoulders, a part of you hoping you can show him the pain he’s causing you. You frown when he groans at the stinging pain.
You grit your teeth when he leers at you.
“That’s it? Put more force behind your anger, then maybe I’ll see you as more than just a bitchy gloryhole boy.”
Your frown deepens into a scowl.
“What’s with the sour face? Isn’t this what you wanted?” He snaps his hips forward, pulling an inhuman sound from your lips.
“If you sit still and look pretty - well, handsome - I might take pity on you.” A hand slips between your legs and tweeks at your dick. You gasp and buck your hips into his calloused palm.
“Pitiful, you're rutting up into my hand as though you actually do have a cock.” He rears back and meets your hips in a bloody, messy puddle shared between the two of you.
“Just who would you impregnate with this? Even if anyone could see you as anything more than a disposable hole, I doubt they’d respect… this.”
His fingers twist, hard and sharp, the rough pads of
his digging into the sensitive skin of your clit. As your back bows off the bed with a high whine, he tuts.
“And this voice. You’re a bitch, through and through.”
The next thrust damn near breaches your cervix, you can feel the muscle tightening in an attempt to keep him out of one of your most sensitive areas.
He chuckles gruffly in your ear, grinding his hips up into you.
“Don’t wanna let me in, boy? It’s not like you have a choice in the matter.”
“Say w-what you will, but I - ah - won’t change to fit your… your standards.”
He cocks his head to the side, almost like a curious dog as he slows his pace.
“Elaborate.”
You blanch.
“Excuse me?”
“Do I have to repeat myself?”
You swallow thickly before speaking up.
“I understand I’ll never be truly accepted as a man. I’m barely accepted as human. So I cast aside those who can’t deal with the fact that I won’t change.”
Sukuna narrows his eyes.
“Even at the cost of your life?”
You think back to when he first found you. The secret you kept close to your heart had been outed to everyone who lived in your small village. They were already pushing it, having someone of your complexion living amongst them. This idea that you were “born in the wrong body” gave them more than enough reason to cast you out. Though, not without a proper send off.
“You remember how you found me. This is who I am.”
A hand grips at your face, only this time it was uncharacteristically gentle. It swivels your head from side to side. Your lip quivers nervously; you bite it and steel yourself for his reaction.
He huffs and pulls out of you. You flinch violently at the sudden pressure change in your guts.
“So be it.”
Stated as plain as can be. As if you hadn’t worked for years to hear someone say something even remotely close to that. Your lip escapes from between your teeth as tears pool and spill over your eyelids.
“First and foremost if you want others to respect you as a man, stop with the crying.”
You sniffle and hastily wipe your tears away before nodding softly.
Sukuna reaches over towards the bedside table and collects a small vial of a golden colored liquid.
“Don’t take my lenience as an excuse to act smart with me.”
He pours the vial onto his fingers before shoving two into your puckered asshole. You squeal before attempting to cover it with a groan. He peers up at you with a raised brow.
“Nice save.”
His pace is fast and unforgiving, messily shoving his fingers in and out. The fact he was even affording you the courtesy of prep baffled you.
It also turned you on far more than you’d like to admit.
You still stifle your moans the best you can, well as best as you can before a heavy hand comes down on your thigh and you yelp.
“A man wouldn’t hold back. So why are you holding back?”
Before you stutter out an excuse he slaps you again.
“Don’t answer. Act.”
You open your mouth again, another slap.
“Don’t make me repeat myself again. You’ve already pushed me far past my limit. Be lucky I find you mildly interesting.”
His eyes are glued to the reddening skin on your thighs, but you don’t miss the conflict within them.
You groan softly.
“That’s it?” He curls his fingers upward and your back bows with a moan.
“There it is… louder.” He scissors his fingers open and you growl.
“You’re threatening me? Don’t get a big head.” He smirks as he crams two more fingers in.
“Gods - fuck!”
He bristles, sucking his teeth.
“What other gods are you acquainted with? You only need to worship one.”
“Fuck, I’m sorr-“
A hand digs deep into your scalp, yanking you up so close to him you can smell the coppery tang of blood on his tongue.
“What are you doing?” The question seems a little too genuine. Your hesitation fucks you over a second time as he wordlessly removes his fingers, grumbling like a stuck up old man.
“Is this what you really want?”
He bullies his way into you and you gasp desperately for air.
“You wish to be treated like this? You enjoy getting bitched out?”
You babble nonsense, shoulders forced into the silky sheets of the bed. His hips meet yours so aggressively your whole body jerks forward. An obscene wet slick sound each time he fucks into you reverbates throughout the relatively empty room.
“Aren’t you so fortunate I came along and not some ugly cretin who wouldn’t be able to satisfy that disgusting itch you have?”
You feel a different kind of pressure building up. Instead of the slow rise of heat that typically accompanies your orgasms, it’s a sudden hot flash of pleasure.
“Wait, somethin’s wrong. I feel funny” You slur out the few words you can muster from the foggy recess of your mind.
Looking back at him, you watch his expression morph from annoyed and confused to viciously excited.
“Aw… are you going to let go? Fuck back onto me and wet my cock like the bitch you claim to not be?”
You shiver and let your eyes roll back into your head as he targets your prostate. You wail and helplessly kick your legs, hoping to hit him somewhere.
“Don’t fight it, you know what I want from you.”
Your lips quiver with a sob as your body gives in before your mind can decide not to.
You cum everywhere. Both your thighs are covered, the sheets are soaked through and it feels like this orgasm is 10 minutes long. Somewhere amidst your cock-drunk stupor you hear him snarl as his hips speed up.
“There it is…” he drawls with his head thrown back, lost in the warmth of you. He stalls with a low growl, plugging you nice and full with rope after rope of cum.
“Oh you’ve really done it now, boy.”