Giving Back by sarhea

Take and Give

Summary: Kagome gets a practical lesson in dominance.

Warnings: kink/lime/lemons ahead. If BDSM, exhibition, kinks, etc makes you queasy skip.

AN: I think this would qualify for r0o’s 3rd GM Challenge 2011. Hope you enjoy sugar0o.

Edited: Jan 8, 2012

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~ooO Take and Give Ooo~

It had been difficult, getting away from her family. In the end they had finally agreed with her desires to ‘catch-up’ on what happened with her Feudal Era friends, to reconnect with one of the survivors from that time. Her mother suspected something but held her peace.

Now here she was, standing in the middle of a wide expanse of polished wood, an old-fashioned retreat designed to be divided into smaller rooms using shoji. Right now there were only two individuals in the building: Sesshoumaru and herself. The huge room was unexpectedly warm despite it being Fall in the higher altitudes. She wondered where they were going to sleep.

“Strip.”

She turned towards the daiyoukai confused and uncertain of his instruction.

“Remove your clothes,” he ordered sharply. “Everything,” he added. “Let your hair down.”

She blushed softly but complied. She was suddenly glad she had chosen to indulge in a full body wax, manicure and pedicure. First she toed off the tabi. Then she stripped off the baggy sweats that were both warm and comfortable. Underneath, her underwear was anything but ordinary. A small thrill crept up her spine as she removed the red silk and white lace accented push-up bra and boy-shorts. Carefully she folded the garments and placed it on a sideboard. She removed the kanzashi and placed it beside her clothes before combing her fingers through her hair to smooth the strands. When she turned to face Sesshoumaru he had already moved and was standing two feet away.

She inhaled sharply when strong calloused hands reached out and casually cupped her breasts, claw-tipped fingertips running over the sensitive points before skimming over and down her breastbone, towards her groin. She moaned softly when those same fingers slipped through the moistening slit and into her clenching hole. She couldn’t stop the soft protesting mewl that escaped when his fingers slipped out.

He thrust those coated fingers towards her lips. “Clean them. With your tongue,” he ordered.

Kagome hoped she didn’t taste too bad. She didn’t. Sharp and musky but not horrid. Underneath was a distinctive fragrance of wisteria. His Dokkatsu. He could very easily kill her then and there. There was no way she could evade his corrosive poison at such close range. The thought made the muscles in her core clench and grow slicker.

He could smell it. His eyes were turning red. He pulled his fingers away, cutting her lower lip with the sharp claws and drawing blood. And then he kissed her hard, almost suffocating her with the intensity of sensations invoked. She whimpered when he broke and pulled away licking his lips. They were red. With her blood. It did not repel her. There were tiny pricks in her upper arm where he had held her too tightly. She could use her powers to heal them but didn’t want to. She stood as he walked around her, bending his head to lick the small wounds on first one arm then the next.

She was pleased. She had pleased him. She could see it in his red eyes. She involuntarily swayed towards him, wishing he would touch her. She yelped when he brushed his hands over her nipples, pinching them with something! When his hands moved away she looked down and saw what he’d used on her… nipple clamps. These were silver and set with red stones that looked like small drops of blood.

“You will not remove them. Follow,” he ordered, reaching to grab his duffel bag and moving towards the back of the room, towards the old-fashioned porcelain heating stove.

She watched as he removed several tatami mats from a cupboard and arranged them on the floor. Then he opened his bag and removed a tablet PC, two paperback books, and a folded swatch of white silk. She watched him unfold the material with a sharp snap and spread it over the tatami. It was not too big, just a rectangular strip one foot wide and three feet long, almost a scarf.

“Kneel,” he told her. “No, not like that.”

He shifted her orientation and position so she was standing in the middle of the strip running in front and behind her. Gracefully she settled into seiza and waited for instructions; and was very surprised when he handed the books to her before stripping off his garments and sat in just hakamas some distance away from her.

“Read. Out loud.”

She examined the titles. Both were collections of fairytales, Western and Japanese. She was confused but game. She picked the Western one and began reading out loud; first slowly, then more confidently with varying tones. Half-way through the first chapter her throat was dry and her core leaking more musky fluid than she had thought possible. What she had thought were fairy tales were anything but. These tales were variations of the story on more dark, violent, and sexually explicit themes. The first one was of Little Red Riding Hood meeting a wolf who was more than happy to eat her up. In the exact manner she wished Sesshoumaru would eat her up.

“Go on,” he murmured, seemingly engrossed in the tablet PC. “I don’t want you to use your hands to masturbate,” he instructed. When he looked up with red tinged gold eyes she knew he was just as affected. So she continued reading.

She read of Sleeping Beauty and Snow White whose Princes woke them from their enchanted sleep with sex; of Beauty’s Beast whose curse never broke completely and who kept turning into a beast everyday at sunset; of the Little Mermaid whose Prince took complete advantage of her before he married the Princess; of Rumplestiltskin who insisted on an intimate pre-payment before he spun straw into gold; Cinderella whose Prince who used more than a slipper to verify she was the one for him.

Her entire body was throbbing and jerking with arousal. Her nipples were swollen and so sensitive in the biting clamps she was certain she would come at a touch. Her thighs were slick with fluids and she had long given up on maintaining the seiza. Her knees had moved apart, her legs shifting such that her lower lips were pressed against the white silk that was no longer pristine and immaculate, soaked and stained by her fluids. Every time her hand had reflexively moved to play with herself she had been stopped by his growl. She did try to ignore her arousal, the building tension, the twisting knot in her belly, but it had been impossible. Halfway through the third story she had shifted enough so that her core was pressed against the silk. With some effort she could exert enough pressure and motion to rock against the silk, her sensitive lower lips and protruding clit rubbing against the tatami through the silk. He said she couldn’t use her hands to masturbate but he didn’t say anything about masturbating in this manner. She forced her eyes up from the print page, to meet burning red ones.

He knew what she was doing. He knew and hadn’t said anything. He had been watching her self-pleasure herself all this time. That knowledge was enough to push her over the edge. A tiny shift redistributed her weight, increasing contact on her clit as she rocked forward. The increased pressure and sharper sensation was enough to make her come hard. She gasped and sobbed, dropping the book as she fell forward on her hands, her thighs quivering from the intensity of her orgasm.

She was vaguely aware of him rising from his seat, walking towards her. His power and the weight of his jyaki was unmistakable. She gasped and cried out when he grabbed the silk, one end in each hand and drew it up, causing the material to bunch and saw back and forth between her swollen slick lower lips. Reflexively she came up on her knees, trying to lessen the pressure on her clit but he didn’t let up, just drawing the silk higher and tighter so the pressure never fell. The combination of her fluids and silk helped reduce the friction of the material slipping through her cunt lips and over her clit. The sensation of silk sliding over her over-sensitized clit only reignited the fire in her belly.

He bent over her. “Come for me little bitch,” he murmured darkly in one ear tugging the silk especially sharply upwards. And she did. Screaming his name.

She made a soft protesting as he pushed between her shoulder blades, firmly enough to make her sprawl forward. She just managed to catch herself on her hands and keep from falling flat on her face. And then she gasped when he pulled the silk and wiped the insides of her wet thighs and then her slick sensitive flesh with one dry end.

“I think I will never wash this and always keep it with me. Whenever you are not around I will smell this and remember how much you desire me. Then if I soak the silk in warm oil I can wrap it around my cock and pretend it is you. Of course when I spill into the silk it will overpower your scent. After that I will need to make a new scent trophy for my pleasure.”

She whined softly at the image his words created. She could almost see it… hot soaked silk being wrapped around his flesh, drawn tight and twisted around him. Her flesh clenched around nothing, yearning for something hard and solid, for him. She needed him. She needed him hard and deep inside, filling her. She needed him pounding into her, stretching her flesh around his. She needed him to take her, to be his.

“Fuck me,” she groaned.

He stilled for a brief moment. “As you wish,” he murmured, ceasing in his ministrations and moving away.

She heard the soft rustle of material falling haphazardly. Then she felt him kneeling behind her, pushing her knees apart far enough to expose her gaping hole to his eyes. Something hard and hot was pressed against her wetness. It took some work for the thick head to push past her untested entrance. He was so thick it stung. And then he was pushing in. Thankfully there was no hymen to interfere and cause pain. The thick solid pole kept working into her. And in. And in. Just how big was he, she wondered frantically. Then he hit an end. She relaxed fractionally. It was premature.

He pressed hard between her shoulder blades, forcing her torso to fall such that her front was pressed against the tatami, her face against her crossed forearms. His clawed hands ran over her front, up her torso to the throbbing points of her nipples. And then he removed the biting clamps. The sensation of blood rushing into the engorged tissue was too much. She came hard and fast, her cunt clenching around his cock. She whimpered softly as he shifted her hips up and moved in even deeper. His groin was pressed flush against her bum, her legs straddling his lap, knees against the outsides of his legs.

For ten tense seconds he was still, as though memorizing the sensation and position. Then he was moving. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. On each In he hit a place she didn’t even know she had deep inside. Her thighs quivered, from the strain. Her cunt clenched, trying to keep him in. Her belly knotted, from desire she never felt before. All through out he was running his claws over her, drawing blood from light scratches, hissing like an irked cat when her reiki first surged free, stinging him lightly. When he got used to the sensation he purred instead, enjoying the small pain-pleasure sensations.

He was content with the leisurely pace but she wasn’t. She needed more.

“Fuck me,” she begged.

“I am,” he pointed out in a low growling voice.

“Harder,” she insisted. He stilled. “I want all of you… the rage, the hunger, the beast… I want to be your bitch, his bitch…”

He growled, deeper, more animal-like. “As you wish, little bitch.”

What followed could not be called anything but rutting; a rough, hard and fast fucking interspersed with biting and clawing. The beast had been surprised then pleased by the pleasure-sting caused by the waves of pink energy flowing from the bitch under them. His more logical self had been concerned by the amounts of blood being drawn and lapped up but the beast knew the bitch was strong and capable. There was no sour taste of fear, only the spicy tang of her arousal and her pleasure-filled screams. She came two times before he did, his knot swelling and locking them together as he bit down on her right shoulder where it met her neck. His jyaki swelled, forcing her reiki down so it would not heal and remove all traces of the courting mark like the rest of his marks. It was a pity she was not fertile at the moment. He wanted to pup her, to scent the change when she began carrying, to see her body swell with his offspring.

The beast retreated, allowing the logical self to come to the fore. Sesshoumaru smirked, at the memories, at the sight of his bitch sprawled under him, her delicate opening stretched to accommodate his knotted cock, her soft compliant whimpers as he rolled his hips into her.

She was His. All that remained was the court presentation and any whores attempting to challenge. Sesshoumaru was certain she could best any of them. He stroked her side with the fleshy pads of his fingertips. He had certainly given her plenty of incentive to succeed.

“Tell me little bitch,” he murmured in one ear. “Tell me, will you say yes if I ask you to kneel and give me a blow job in front of some other female who wants to mate me?”

She growled and her muscles tightened around him. “Yes,” she hissed enraged. “You are mine! No one is taking you from me.”

“And if I want to cum on your breasts? Your face?”

“I will remove my top for you to spill on me.”

“And what if I want your cunt?” He gave a gentle thrust with his hips emphasizing just how he would want her. “Will you allow me to take you in front of your rivals? To prove the only bitch I’m interested in, is you?”

“Yes!” she cried out.

“And if she is unwilling to accept our bond, if she still desires this Sesshoumaru as mate, will you kill her?”

“YESS!” she hissed, aroused and enraged by the scenario his words created.

He grinned, pleased with her responses.

“Good,” he murmured against the still bleeding wounds on her flesh, lapping delicately at the blood.

Carefully he shifted so he was lying on his side, her back pressed to his front, drawing her leg over his hip. She whimpered as the action stretched the sore muscles in her groin. He ran his hands over her front, cupping her breasts, playing with red swollen nipples idly. He grinned as one of her hands joined his in playing with her breasts. Idly he wished she was fertile and had conceived. He would like to see the small firm globes swell along with her belly and leak milk to nourish their pups.

He kissed her shoulder idly making plans. The next court gathering was in ten weeks; more than enough time for him to help her prepare for any challengers. He also needed to inform his sons that he would be taking a mate. Hopefully they would take it better than he did at their age. But even if they didn’t like it Sesshoumaru knew he would still make Kagome his. Just like his father had chosen Izayoi over him.

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TBC…

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AN: seiza – traditional formal way of sitting

AN: tabi – toed socks, can be worn indoors like house slippers

AN: tatami – woven straw mats

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