Douma X Reader 18+ ⚠️

Chapter 4

Heaving when your stomach squeezed so tight you thought for sure you’d spew all over the front of him, your back bowed with a wet, muffled gurgle.

“But you have nothing to fear, I promise you that. If it will make you feel any better, why don’t you bring your daughter to my private room later and I’ll have a nice long chat with her, hmm?”

“Oh, thank you, Douma-sama! I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

Every muscle in your body convulsed and you violently retched around his cock, struggling not to throw up even as snot dribbled out of your nose.

“Think nothing of it,” Douma assured him with a charismatic amount of sincerity. “It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? Run along now, friend. Go be with your family.”

The man bowed and back away, issuing one thanks after another, and it was only after his voice had faded away into the distance that Douma pulled you up off his dick. A haggard sound erupted from your swollen lips and you sucked in a faltering gasp, swallowing hard, and then desperately inhaling again. Your vision was swimming before your very eyes, thanks in equal amounts to a lack of oxygen and the tears flowing over your lashes. You still caught the movement of Douma glancing down at you though and, blinking rapidly, you chanced a tremulous smile.

“I’m not being too rough with you, am I?” He ventured lightly, sounding like he already knew the answer.

“N - no ...” You rasped. “Never. Thank you for this great honor, Douma-sama.”

“Good girl.”

Then he was shoving you back down, forcing his cock past your lips and into your throat again. You gagged, shoulders trembling with the effort of keeping your lunch from coming up when your stomach tensed and roiled. But through some combination of your nerves numbing to the abuse and the copious amounts of thick saliva your mouth was producing, the penetration came a little easier this time. He slipped further in than before, stretching your throat to accommodate his girth, and you whined around the intrusion as your fingers uselessly flexed. You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity but in all actuality could’ve only been a few short moments before Douma pulled on your hair just enough to slip out of your neck. The reprieve was short-lived though and, before you could steady yourself, he pushed on the back of your head until you gurgled noisily as the full length slipped past your tonsils. Soft, fine hair tickled your nose, eyes rolling back in doped out bliss, and a deeply contented sigh promptly rattled through his frame.

“Ah, Mariko-chan. What a pleasure to see you, love. Have a seat.”

The rational part of your mind recognized the name but was too far lost within the heavy shroud of surging endorphins and adrenaline to be embarrassed about being seen like this. All you could focus on was the man robbing you of oxygen and making your pussy ache with need all in one fell swoop. If she responded to his greeting, you didn’t catch it over the blood pounding in your ears. If she even stopped to look at you twice in revulsion or affronted jealousy you’d never know. Every part of your conscious had receded to a pulsating pinprick that consisted of Douma and Douma alone.

You were just teetering on the edge of creeping darkness when he deigned to yank you up by the hair and you sputtered helplessly as sheets of drool gushed out past your lips along with his cock. Coughing and struggling to breathe, you dizzily rocked against his hold but it was impossible to find your bearings when the room was spinning in a blinding blur of red. The cushions, the trays, his shirt, the curtains. Every possible hue of the color swarmed your senses, making you feel sick - more so than the force of his cock stretching your throat - and you sniffled pathetically as he titled your face up towards him.

Vibrant greens and blues abruptly burst into existence, breaking up the monotony of scarlets and maroons and apple reds. You belatedly realized you were looking into Douma’s eyes now, the breathtaking combination of colors overwhelming your senses within a matter of seconds, and you keened into the statically charged air as you instinctively tried to kiss him.

“Now, now,” He cooed delightedly, giving your head a sharp yank to stop your frenzied, amorous attempt. “None of that, darling. Stay focused on the task at hand. We’ve got more important matters to attend to, don’t we?”

You nodded so vigorously your eyes seemed to rattle about inside your skull. While other men might have found your display too desperate for their liking, Douma was no ordinary man and he chuckled warmly as he drew you closer. One sharp nailed hand latched onto your thigh, digging in hard enough to bruise as he hiked your leg up over his lap. You quickly got the message and, shifting your weight awkwardly to accommodate the stretch, you climbed on top of him in a frenzy and threw your other leg over the other side. His arms encircled your waist, pausing just long enough to grip the plump meat of your ass before reaching further down to guide his spit lathered cock to your entrance. You shuddered when you felt it pressing up into your folds, smearing your gushing arousal as he drew it across your labia with quick flicks that barely teased the throbbing nub of your clit.

Groaning so hard it felt like you might shatter into a million, fleeting pieces, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and sunk down. Douma’s hold on your waist stilled you almost immediately, tightening to the point of real discomfort, and then he eased up on the pressure, allowing you to impale yourself on his cock. You issued a very nearly hysterical, bleating wail, staring unseeingly at the sprawling field of spider lily’s extending across the wall and consuming your vision when he stretched your cunt the same way he had your mouth. A fresh wave of emphatic tears welled up along your lashline, threatening to spill over in ecstatic joy. You’d never felt so deeply gratified by a man's touch in all your life and you clung to him like a desperate wretch as you used your body weight to rock against him.

And through it all the spider lily’s bled into a single, amorphous blob of blood-red mist that seemed to breathe around you, moving as though it were alive. Observing. Waiting. Calculating your breaking point.

Anticipating the feast it would one day make out of you.

“Please tell me what's on your mind, Mariko-chan. I only want to help in any way I can.”