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Every week, every Friday night, to be exact, Yuuji is in the same place.
It's a fairly new routine, one he has kept so on the down low that everybody who knows him would be convinced he's snoring up a storm in bed right now. Instead of this; fingers tightly clasped around a drink he still can't bring himself to like, fourth week in a row now. It's the only one he's familiar with, however, and so he orders it every time and finds his corner table, far enough from the slowly growing crowd to feel comfortable, but close enough to still see the stage.
Tonight, it's empty of any wild props. Just an armchair and a side table next to it.
The first time Yuuji came and took this same exact spot, there had been a giant cross set up in the middle. Wooden and attached to the very stage to ensure stability, and on it, carefully built in cushions and cuff links. A St. Andrew's Cross, as Yuuji had found out later that night in the rabbit hole he entered post show, dick rubbed raw and wrist aching.
The second Friday had no such set up, but still—a bed sat in the middle, and next to it a table holding an array of floggers and toys Yuuji couldn't even begin to identify. And again, too embarrassed to actually ask anybody but the internet about any of this, he had scrolled for hours looking at different BDSM gear and tried to remember if he recognised any from the performance.
The third—Yuuji's personal favourite so far—had been nothing short of life changing. Red rope digging into soft, procelain skin is what he remembers so vividly, even now, that if he just closed his eyes he would be back there. Palming his cock watching the elegantly folded figure swing above the stage. Above everybody. A star in its own right, shining so bright Yuuji felt like he was sinning for even looking at him.
When Yuuji had found out what his uncle did for a living, he didn't expect this.
The BDSM club is tucked in a narrow alleyway in the centre of the city, so hidden from the average folk it had Yuuji wondering about the legality of it all the first time he flashed his freshly acquired ID at the entrance. The bouncer had eyed him weirdly, and Yuuji's heart sank all the way down to his ass when he was asked to remove his hood. He expected some kind of reaction, when he pushed it back to reveal a head of very distinctive pink hair, but unlike what he thought, the Earth kept on spinning just fine. The bouncer nodded at him, moved on, and Yuuji didn't get busted for his perversions before he could even indulge in the pit of curiosity buzzing inside him.
Now, a month into his new obsession, the bouncer knows him well enough to not question the hood. Yuuji should probably be embarrassed by that particular development, but he only ever feels relief, knowing his secret won't be somehow broadcasted on the news for the whole city to laugh at him. Because everybody must be so eager to know about the deranged boy sneaking out to watch his uncle spank pussy in front of dedicated fans.
Yuuji is classified as one himself, he supposes. His chest grows tight with anticipation too, waiting to see what exactly they've got in store for tonight. He bounces his leg impatiently in his wait, sweat gathering at his temple and cock stirring in advance, knowing what's coming.
Uncle Sukuna doesn't use his real name when he's performing, which Yuuji learned thanks to the bold LED letters displayed behind the stage. Instead, the names 'Daddy&Blessing' blink at the crowd in red, well known and appreciated by the community.
Blessing—or Megumi, as the crowd often calls him, but Yuuji figured they are one and the same—only ever calls Sukuna 'Daddy'. A nickname reserved for Megumi and Megumi alone. Yuuji hates to admit it makes his cock twitch every time he hears it, even more so when Sukuna grumbles back, always, in that slow, dark way of his. Low in his chest. Even lower in Yuuji's flipping gut.
So, maybe it's a little humiliating that he's fully hard before Sukuna and his Blessing are even out, but he doesn't dwell on it for too long.
He can't, because the lights around the stage suddenly dim into that atmospheric, captivating mood Yuuji has grown familiar with, and he holds his breath.
Sometimes, Megumi will come out naked from the get go, showing off long, smooth legs and pair of soft looking tits. Tits Yuuji would be willing to give his whole life away for—just a single chance to cup them in that same way uncle Sukuna does, and then squeeze. Yuuji prepares himself for it, just in case, but this time he's greeted by a skimpy little outfit instead. Megumi's legs are bare once again, the hem of his skirt barely reaching under the curve of his ass, and Yuuji is so sharply focused he doesn't miss the slight tremor in his knees. Yuuji grits his teeth, inhaling deeply as his eyes go up, up, up to perky boobs and the prettiest face he thinks he's ever seen.
Without a word, Megumi situates himself on the velvet armchair on the stage, legs drawn up in a way that skillfully hides everything underneath his skirt. Yuuji watches him without blinking. Every move, he follows with a hypnotic sort of devotion. Megumi takes a book off the little round table next to him and pretends to read, humming softly under his breath, and then—well, it's Daddy's turn.
The crowd is eerily silent, all gathered around the stage and hanging on to every move, every small sound that might give them an idea of what they're in for. When Sukuna comes out, the air dips under his presence, sending a chill down Yuuji's spine.
Unlike Megumi, he is clad in a white, lightly wrinkled button up and dress pants, a blazer draped over one of his hands as he stalks over to the figure on the centre of the stage, throws it over the back of the armchair, and so begins their dance. Yuuji sees a few men in the front already unbuttoning their pants, girls teasing themselves over their clothes, but he stays patient, one hand around his glass and the other digging into his thigh.
Very quickly, Yuuji catches up to the roles. Father and son, Daddy and Blessing, and oh—that's new. They haven't played characters until now. Yuuji strains his ears as hard as he can to hear it.
"Have you forgotten what you need to do?"
Megumi shakes his head immediately, blinking up at Suku. Then, he scrambles off the armchair to give Sukuna his space, so he can twist it around to the side with ease, eliciting a few murmurs amongst the crowd, and even Yuuji leans in slightly, heart pounding in anticipation.
When Daddy sits down, Blessing follows.
He obediently makes his way over, a large hand on his nape coming up to push him down and over Sukuna's lap. For a second, Yuuji mourns not being able to see Megumi's face like this, but then his skirt rides up his ass and his legs spread apart, and Yuuji nearly blacks out.
Hot pink panties sit snug on Megumi's fat pussy lips, so snug, in fact, that Yuuji can see the outline of them perfectly, along with a growing wet patch in the middle. His cock twitches at the sight, and Yuuji bites back a hiss.
He catches the displeasure on Sukuna's face, the way he curls his top lip in disgust as he brings a hand down to knead one of Megumi's ass cheeks.
"Have you been bad while daddy's been away, hm?"
It's a chance for Megumi to be honest, make his punishment less severe. Yuuji has learned it by now—Sukuna gives subtle leeway every time, almost making it Megumi's choice whether the treatment he gets is rough or something gentler, something more fit for his sweet, pretty body. The entire crowd seems to pause in the short moment Megumi takes to answer, and Yuuji almost hears the collective silent prayer to lie, to anger daddy, to make it brutal.
And like always, Megumi delivers, "No. I've been good, Daddy."
Sukuna hums, fingers sneaking under Megumi's panties and tugging, making the elastic snap back. Megumj jumps, hips jerking in surprise.
"Is that so?" Sukuna muses, a complete natural. He doesn't acknowledge the crowd in any way, doesn't take his eyes off the pretty thing squirming in his lap. Yuuji watches him like a hawk, commiting every turn of hand to memory. When he comes down between Megumi's legs and presses into the wetness there, Yuuji lets his own hand come down to palm over his cock. "Then what's this here? Do I have to check your cunt, baby? Are you lying to me?"
Another chance. Another hitch of breath.
"No," Megumi repeats, "I would never lie to you Daddy."
Yuuji is nearly shaking now, breaths shallow as he works himself up. He's hanging off every word, waiting to see what's next.
When Sukuna reaches up to pull Megumi's panties down his ass, the crowd collectively groans, and Yuuji hears more shuffling, more zippers being pulled down, but he keeps his eyes straight. Once the thin fabric is off, stretched out between two thighs just under Megumi's pretty, pink cunt, Yuuji sees it—a quick little clench, hole fluttering around nothing, and then the first dollop of white, creamy cum trickling out between smooth pussy lips and getting caught in Blessing's panties.
The crowd gasps. Daddy frowns.
"Oh, baby," the word slices through like a hit, even if Sukuna does no such thing yet, and Megumi visibly flinches. "You would never lie to me, huh?"
Two fingers slide down, over a cute, flawlessly waxed hole, and down to where Megumi is flushed pink, clearly very recently fucked. Sukuna presses them in to the first knuckle without warning and spreads that tight cunt for the whole crowd to see, causing more cum to leak out. Megumi clenches around it, squirms, tries so desperately to stop the flow, but it keeps coming out in filthy amounts and all over Sukuna's fingers.
"Just look at that whore cunt," Sukuna says, and for a second, it feels like he's talking to the crowd. To Yuuji. "You couldn't help it, yeah? Couldn't follow the one rule I've given you?"
Freeing his other hand from Megumi's neck, Sukuna brings it up to stuff another pair of fingers in—two on both sides, spreading Megumi out nice and wide and…fuck.
Yuuji readjusts in his chair, inhaling sharply when he finally frees his cock under the table. It slaps up to his stomach, hard and leaking ridiculously, like he's thirteen again having never touched himself before. Wrapping a hand around the base, Yuuji doesn't immdiately start stroking, instead, he keeps it there, squeezing whenever he feels another rush of excitement going straight to his gut.
Sukuna plunges his fingers in deeper, making Megumi move up with the force, hands flying out to grip the arm rest in front of him, and Yuuji starts his first stroke in tandem. Up and then down, and then pause.
"Daddy," Megumi whimpers out, arching his back deeper, cunt fucked out and gaping. "Daddy, please, I can explai—ah!"
One hand wrenches away from his hole and then comes down in a harsh, resounding slap, straight on Megumi's pussy. The sweet, mouth-watering colour of it blossoms into an even sweeter red, puffy, fat lips jiggling under the force of Sukuna's hand. Yuuji hangs his head, giving his weeping cock a pleased little smile. The leaking red tip almost matches Megumi's pretty cunt.
"Don't waste your words," Sukuna says, voice cold, void of any reverence he has on other nights, when his dear Blessing is in a different predicament. Now, he's talking to a whore and he knows it. Yuuji shivers at the tone.
When Sukuna rips his other hand away from Megumi's cunt, he picks up cum on two fingers and then wrenches Megumi's head back to shove them deep into his mouth. Yuuji only sees a flash of Megumi's face from where he's sitting, but he can tell that he's crying even as he suckles on Sukuna's fingers, whining and whimpering around the digits in his mouth.
"Does that taste like Daddy's cum?"
Megumi shakes his head, and earns himself another spank right across his leaking cunt.
"And who's the only one that's allowed to breed you?"
Sukuna pull his fingers out, watching Megumi cough and drool all over himself as he gathers his words.
"You, Daddy," Megumi cries out. "Only you."
At that, Sukuna seems to get even angrier. The line of his mouth stands straight, eyes boring into the writhing body in his lap, and so he strikes again. One, two, three, four slaps all one after the other, while he keeps Megumi's head down, face buried into the armchair Sukuna is sitting in like a king. The man everybody wants, and only Megumi gets.
"You will count," Megumi says, loud and clear. "And you will do it out loud, so everybody hears what a disobedient whore you've been."
He doesn't wait for Megumi's answer. He just strikes him again across his puffy, swelling cunt, rings on and all.
Megumi convulses, and counts. "One."
Yuuji stares at the way his pussy reacts—another jiggle, both holes clenching in pain, and he starts stroking himself again. Slow and steady. He can time it right, if he just follows all of Megumi's little tells.
Sukuna goes again. Harder, so hard it rings out through the entire club, and the crowd collectively inhales.
A pathetic, sobbed out "two" follows. Megumi's cunt glistens under the lights, starting to ooze slick. It's undeniably Yuuji's favourite thing, how his body always reacts to the pain like it pleases him greatly, how wet he gets from being slapped and flogged and burned. How he sometimes squirts just from a particularly hard strike. God…Yuuji swears he's never seen anything like it.
Not in any of the porn he's watched alone in his room as a fresh teen, furiously rubbing his cock to girls getting pounded by guys twice their size. It wall seems so boring now. None of it lives up to Daddy and Blessing, to the way Sukuna fucks like he wants to make himself a home in that tight, tiny cunt—it's what he always calls it, when he's snapping deep inside of Megumi. Tight and tiny. His cunt. His home.
Yuuji tightens his fist around his cock, using the abundance of precum to make it easy, slippery, as he starts to fuck up into his fist, imagining it's a hot, clenched pussy instead.
Megumi makes it easy for him, when he gushes another wave of slick after two consecutive slaps, thighs trying to squeeze together. For that, he gets another one, and Sukuna spreads his legs again, showing off for the crowd. There's a small ripping sound when Megumi's panties stretch out with the move, and then Sukuna is reaching out between his wet thighs to rip them off completely.
And Sukuna must be feeling kind tonight, because he bunches up the flimsy fabric in one hand and then throws it to the crowd without taking his eyes off of Megumi, paying no mind to the way people start to gasp and climb all over each other in attempt to claim the prize.
Yuuji pays them no mind either. He's transfixed by the image in front of him, by how small and sad and punished Megumi looks, not knowing whether he wants more or less.
In the end, it's not his choice. Sukuna lets him go to undo his belt, torturous in his slow pace, probably, judging by the way Megumi continues twitching and moving, trying to hump something and coming up empty. For that, he gets another spank, and it takes him a moment to gasp in enough air and count out loud.
"Get up," Sukuna commands, and Megumi does exactly that.
He slides off Sukuna's lap on shaky legs, almost colliding with the side table when he loses balance, but a quick hand stops him before he can fall. Sukuna gets up right after him all while tying his belt into a loop, snapping the leather together in a sharp, resounding echo, and Yuuji's stomach flips at the sound.
"Now back, ass up and legs spread."
It takes him a moment, but Megumi gets there. Yuuji slows his strokes down to long, long drags, not wanting to cum just yet. When Megumi situates himself exactly how Sukuna told him to—nearly folded in half in the armchair, face pushed into a cushion and ass up high in the air, showing off his abused cunt in front of his viewers perfectly—Sukuna comes up next to him, all big and mighty, belt held loosely in one hand while the other starts a slow descent down Megumi's spine.
Yuuji arches his own back unconsciously, lost in the depths of the scene in front of him, in every word making his dick throb in his hand.
"Since you've forgotten who this cunt belongs to," Sukuna starts, lifting the edge of his belt to Megumi's cunt and pressing it in between two wet lips. "Daddy will remind you, and believe me, you'll never forget it again."
All the air out of the room seems to be sucked out in that moment. When Yuuji tries to breathe his chest constricts, hand shooting out to grip the table in front of him as if he's bracing himself for it. For the moment where Sukuna lifts the belt up high, and that snaps it back down on a waiting cunt in one swift, sharp move.
First, a whipping sound breaks through, as the belt snaps the air in half, and then a wet slap, but neither of the two compare to the guttural, scratchy noise Megumi lets out. Half scream and half moan, bringing everything else to a silence. The shuffling and the whispers die out as all mouth fall open, a few people shooting up to their feet and craning their necks to see better, closer, as slick trickles down Megumi's thighs in a sticky mess.
"Count," Sukuna repeats, and strikes him again.
Gradually, Yuuji gets so lost in it he loses count himself. Sukuna is fast, slapping, touching, muttering things about making sure Megumi never goes out again since he's such a dirty whore, a cockslut, offering his cunt up to anybody that asks—Yuuji doesn't catch all of it. He's burning up, jerking his cock in fast, unforgiving strokes, grunting under his breath as everything boils down to the beautiful cunt in front of him and the too-familiar man bruising it.
When Megumi caves under the rough treatment and his legs lose strength underneath him, he squirts so hard it bursts out of him, leaving a puddle on the stage.
Yuuji follows right after him.
Cumming into his fist with a low grunt, he fights the urge to close his eyes when it hits him, intense and hot and making his hands shake. He doesn't want to miss a second of the show. He wants to go to bed tonight and be able to replay it in his head step by step in perfect, vivid memory. He wants to never forget the way Sukuna turns pain into pleasure, and pleasure into pain. He wants to not be able to look his uncle in the eye the next time he sees him, for he knows how disgusting he had been here, hidden in shadows and his own twisted desire.
Despite how momumental it feels to Yuuji, no one sees him, no one knows that he's probably the filthiest one in the room, despite being hidden.
The show goes on. It is only Megumi's first orgasm out of many more that will come, and Yuuji sticks around for all of them. Three hours and forty-nine minutes, to be exact, he spends watching Daddy and Blessing. Once it's time for their devastating departure, with Megumi weak and barely present as he gets hauled up in a pair of strong arms, Yuuji swears Sukuna's eyes are shining red in the midst of one final sweep through the spent crowd.
And he swears they hang on a second too long in the corner, where Yuuji sits with a fist loose around his cock and his heart in his throat.