「 pretty 」━━━ haikyuu !!

─ BOKUTO KOUTARO

「 LET'S PUT ON A SHOW, BABYBOY ! 」

The lust of two young people burned through the cold inky blackness of the night.

Blindfolded golden eyes were cradled with innocent tears, and candy pink handcuffs chafed the soft flesh of pale, binded wrists. Strings of saliva, dripping from a firmly gagged mouth, painted the purest portrayal of lewdness on the bare chest of a young man.

Pretty took a step back to admire her fresh erotic artwork. Bokuto sat, naked, on the sinister chair of her little lewd games, savagely biting the leather belt that restricted any supplications to come out of his unholy mouth. The sound of his dominant's desireful ruby red heels sensually slammed against the marble floor, reverberating through the purple velvet walls of her playroom like the complaint of a demon.

What a sinful, kinky frame the young man was trapped in tonight.

"You're so fucking cute like that, babyboy."

Pretty was like a goddess. Someone all men and women would drop to their knees for, worshiping the ground she was walking on. Her sultry voice rang through her submissive's ears like the laughter of the devil, imprisoning his tortured mind through the cursed notes of its melody. She was a pretty-looking curse, a sweet-tasting drug, and Bokuto's addiction to her vices seemed resolved to follow him until his very last breath. Her deific hands removed the rigid belt from his mouth, letting it fall around his throat like a punitive collar.

"Please," the young man exhaled, letting his head fall against the back of the chair in a tragic complaint, "Touch me."

"Beg for it, babe."

With the strength of one single nail, she lifted up her submissive's chin and let her dainty fingertips run down his throat, drawing the shape of his Adam apple gracefully. Bokuto's voice cracked in a weak moan, letting her sinful caress paint lust over his pure facade. Although he was blindfolded, the young man couldn't get rid of the weight of her cocky smile and lascivious eyes, piercing through his soul like a retribution for his carnal desires. Being a mere mortal before an ethereal creature, the young man couldn't help but bow down to her cunning whispers, dripping from her red lips like sugar and honey.

Oh, dear ! He would beg, until he was out of breath.

"For God's sake, Pretty, fuck me!" he cried through the despair of each breath torn from his heavy lungs. "I'll shut my mouth, I swear to you!"

"Is that..." Pretty chuckled, trailing her sinful finger up his throbbing cock, drawing its curvy shape with hungry eyes, "What you want, babyboy?"

Bokuto let out a pained whimper when her poisoned tongue spitefully licked the tip of his hardened length, creamy fluids and drips of saliva painting each vein of his sobbing member in a way that was absolutely obscene. The young man could only feel the stimulation, though he had no trouble to picture the sight of it in his mind — and dear, was it hot.

"Yes," he whined, breathless, blissful. "That's it."

"You should speak more politely when I'm pleasuring you, sweetheart."

Bokuto swallowed his swearing back down his throat, gritted his teeth and patiently waited for any kind of stimulation — but much to his dismay, there was none. Being a man of pride, obeying was something he repelled like some loathsome disease. But when orders maliciously rolled out of Pretty's silver tongue, Bokuto couldn't help but drop to his knees and pray for her mercy.

"Please, mistress," he cried between two pitiful sobs, the weight of his supplications crushing his pride. "Let me cum for you..."

"Is that so?" the young woman chuckled, playfully sitting on his lap, cupping his half-hidden face in between her goddess-like palms, using her other free one to pull at the belt around his throat. "How many times do you think you can cum for me, babyboy?"

Bokuto clenched his defined jaw as her threatening grip tightened, bloody-red nails digging into the soft flesh of his milky cheeks. He could feel the silky skin of her alluring thighs rubbing against his hard cock teasingly, and cursed in silence.

"Too shy to answer?" Pretty whispered to his ear, purposefully breathing against his neck, torturing his abused nerves. "Would you like me to test that out, sweetheart?"

Bokuto whined as she grabbed his chin again, foreseeing an intense session of endless overstimulation. Fear lit up through the gold of his blinded eyes. He didn't complain, though Pretty's godawful desires often materialized into rough and cruel games. Playing with the devil had a price.

And Bokuto was about to pay it.

Pretty wrapped the fingers of her dainty hands around his aching member, taking the time to feel every vein of his ridged skin, pumping it up and down at a painfully slow pace. The young man parted his cracked lips, sucked in a breath. It felt heavenly pleasuring.

"Pretty..." Bokuto exhaled, moaning loudly.

His dominant's cherry red lips curled into a fatal smirk, mere curve of a celestial face that could've made him soar towards the skies if he'd been able to see it. The grey-haired man threw his head back sloppily as Pretty's vicious lips kissed the tip of his lengthy member, coating them white with milky fluids.

"Now let's put on a show, babyboy."

With the tricky cleverness of a demon, Pretty took his pulsating manhood all the way down her sinful throat, swirling her tongue around the base of his cock, painting her artful wiles all over his elysian body with an evil passion.

"Fuck, mistress!" Bokuto cried out, curling his toes against the chair legs. "You feel— so fucking good!"

Pretty chuckled, the cursed flames of hell igniting her vibrating throat, and suddenly her submissive forgot how to breathe. With one last lewd moan, Bokuto squirmed, trembled and cried, shooting his creamy cum down her throat shamelessly. Pretty pulled out, chin obscenely dripping with his sweet juices. The silver light of the moon embraced her velvety skin and kissed her cum stained face, painting unguilty sins over her angelic facade.

"You taste like honey."

Bokuto's lungs heaved for air. Seeing stars, he felt like he could die in peace. His dominant untied the piece of fabric that kept his eyes in the dark, planting her sharp, relentless gaze through the glassy mirrors of his blown-out pupils.

"We're not done here, babyboy."