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“Please, Kensuke-San!” You pleaded through heavy, almost shallow breaths, trying to wriggle free from his strong grip. “S-stop!” He couldn’t help it—it was primal instinct. Bent over the table helplessly, he plunged himself into you, your pleads getting drawn out by pathetic moans.
“C’mon!” Said Kensuke, running towards the mumbled chaos of the Eva fighting the Angels again. You sighed, closing the Sherlock Holmes novel you currently had in your hands. “Do I have to come, Kensuke? I’m pretty busy—“ you hold the book up to his face. He was significantly taller than you, yet, he never brought it up, as the kind soul he was. He knew how you never like your height. “—And I don’t want to watch the battles again. They’re scary and we could get hurt!”
”But,” he held up the beloved camera of his, flashing you a sly smile. “We’ll get some awesome, top-secret film material!”
“Fine, I’ll come,” you gave up, getting off the ground and following him.
The two of you paused just a mere 10, maybe 13, yards, inches—I don’t know— away from the battle. Every crash, thud, excessively loud noise made your heart jump up, jerking your body awake. Kensuke was enjoying himself to his heart’s content, oohing and aahing at each move the robot performed. He seemed absorbed in his own world, his big, callused hands gripped tight over the camera, as if something valuable and rare. You pulled away at the skirt you wore, fidgeting mindlessly at the soft fabric. He was so cute, the way he got all interested in all these little nerdy, weirdo things and the way he was so attentive to details. His hair was a little messy and unkept, subtle stubble beard taking up his face. His glasses were always high up on his nose. You liked him for years now, but he just never seemed to take a hint. It was so irritating. You just wished he would notice you for once. You wished he would have his way with you, his skillful, fast hands making you feel things that you thought weren’t even possible.
”Wow, Kensuke!” You giggled at the sight of his military uniform. He unfortunately had to cut his hair into some odd buzz cut but it suited him well. He had this forced stern look plastered across his face but you could feel the happiness radiating off him. “I can’t believe you’re a solider now! I remember when you used to play with all those aircraft toys…”
”Well, I don’t do that anymore, do I?” He snapped. He sighed. “It’s going to be pretty stressful for me, intense training and all that.” You look up at him and he took a step closer. “I’ll really miss you. I’ll try to write, okay?” He hugged you, embracing the way your body felt up his. He so wanted to just touch you all over, kneading your butt in his hands like dough, but instead, he chose to release you firmly.
“Bye, Kensuke!”
Watching him walk away panged your heart. When you could no longer see him within your naked eyes, you sank to the ground and weeped.
He never wrote.
There was this specific forest you and Kensuke liked to visit. It was abandoned and quiet, the perfect place to spy and practice military with. Kensuke would have you stripped, as he often said that was how sex-deprived military men acted like. He’d have you on all fours, rear-end faced to him. He’d step on you with combat boots, telling you all these degrading things like: “you’re just a worthless nigger; go suck my cock!” It’d make you cry; naturally, you were sensitive, both emotionally and physically. You’d cry and whimper and Kensuke would smile at how perfectly you preformed your role. “Your crying is pathetic,” he’d spit on you, smacking your cunt with his boots repeatedly. “When your owner would talk to you, would you go ahead and break down and cry?” He’d smack your butt. “Gosh, how are you ever going to become a woman with all this whining?” Kensuke sighed dramatically, removing his belt and clothing it around your throat. “Black women are so needy. They just don’t know their place!” He’d tighten the grip on the belt, nearly choking you to tears. He’d notice your struggle and stroke your pussy slightly, two fingers in, thumb circling about. “Shhh.. it’s okay, don’t cry; you’re doing so well..”
He’d apologize to you after, petting you like you were some dumb mutt.
.
.
.
Sitting there in those same woods after so long made you feel crummy.
A familiar voice rang through your ears rhat day.
”Y/N?” A gruff, yet nerdy tone asked.
You turned your head around immediately, a smile spreading across your face. “Kensuke-San? I-it’s been so long…”
You embraced each other for what seemed like so long.
”You never wrote me..?”
“Hmm?” He cocked his head to the side, his hand lowering awfully close to your rear. “I promised to write you? My, I don’t remember… I’m awfully sorry!”
”I was….” You look at him. “I was devastated. I thought you forgot me.”
“Stop whining,” he ordered, his voice sharp and commanding. “I’m here, aren’t I? Why must you expect so much from me?”
”I-I… I’m sorry—“
”No,” he interrupted, removing his hands from you and grabbing your throat. “You still haven’t changed.”
“Kensuke-San! Let me go!”
If anything, his grip seemed to tighten. A smile spread across his face.
”Y’know, while I was there, doing military stuff and whatnot, I realized something.” He paused, looking at you. You, with the tears clouding your eyes and your body trembling. “You’re just a nigger. The bottom of the barrel. I have authority over you, you know that?”
You shake your head.
“Knees—now.”
All fours again. This fate could never escape you. You look up at him, his gaze, emotionless and taunting, meeting yours. He smiled. He placed those combat boots on your face, pushing you down to the ground with a light thud.
”There we go…” he muttered to himself.
He knelt down, retrieving a cloth from his back pocket. “Do you know what this is?” He held it up close to your face where you could see it.
”Y-yes,” you barely muster, your gaze transfixed. “..It’s chloroform, isn’t it?”
He pet you. “Good girl; you were an educated mutt..”
Before you could say anything else, he placed it on your face with such a practiced expression that it made you realize something:
He had been waiting for this moment.
His little loft was quite small and messy, papers and aircraft books scattered everywhere. On the couch, an empty instant noodle cup lay bare. The living room was the size of a small bedroom — you didn’t even want to imagine what his room would be like! It didn’t matter anyway. When you lay awake, he immediately thrust his cock into your mouth, pushing your legs open wide. “Finally,” he grunted, his cock deep into your mouth, making you drool and gag tremendously. “There’s only so much military books I can read before I start to get bored.”
His hands traveled low to your thighs, his hands rubbing teasing circles awfully shy of where you were sensitive. “All that training paid off, didn’t it?” He teases, his middle digit plunged into you without warning. You could hardly breathe, your vision cloudy and distraught. You were taking it so well. You didn’t resist, didn’t fight. You just let him take. You wanted to be so good for him. After all, he was your senior, your elder. You always had to listen to your elders, right?
He placed soft, almost loving kisses all over your neck. His cock had been long removed from your mouth. Your whimpering and sons were like a soft melody to his ears. The way you stood there, crying like a helpless kitty made him incredibly tight — even without any clothes! He slapped you, forcing you up again, just to put you against the table that was so conveniently placed.
“Please, Kensuke-San!” You pleaded through heavy, almost shallow breaths, trying to wriggle free from his strong grip. “S-stop!” He couldn’t help it—it was primal instinct. Bent over the table helplessly, he plunged himself into you, your pleads getting drawn out by pathetic moans. You were helping him after all. Thanks to you, you trained him perfectly for the military!
-8 years ago-
“Who do you belong to?” He turned to you one day, his legs crossed over his bed, his camera snug in his hands. His gaze never left your body, goosebumps coming across your skin.
”You, sir” you replied almost instantly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You thought this would finally be the day he would show some kind of romantic interest—anything, in fact—to you.
”Good girl.” He got up and went behind you, hugging you with such a tight grip that you thought your nipples would perk up through your pajama shirt just from that act alone.
”Get on your knees for me, Y/N,” he ordered with a faux military voice. It made you want to laugh, but it was obvious that he was being serious.
”W-what?” You sputtered. “I-I… get on my knees?”
He nodded briefly. “On your knees. Now.”
”Yes, sir,” you complied, obedient and clueless.