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No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin

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“Tell me what you're thinking.”

 

Dipper hesitated. What did one say to a demon who had him tied up and was offering him a chance at unlimited knowledge? The answer seemed obvious, but the price . . . it seemed almost as heavy as the golden collar Bill was offering him seemed to be. Gulping, he chose honesty. What could it hurt? “C-can you stand back a little?” Because Bill's complete and utter lack of respect for his personal space was making it really hard for him to think. “It's making me . . . nervous.”

 

Bill hummed. “Please,” his voice dropped an octave, “continue to be nervous.” His pointed teeth grazed Dipper's ear as he hissed, “I like the way anxiety looks on you. And the answer is no, in case you hadn't guessed.” Of course it was. Dipper grit his teeth and tried not to think of Bill's body against his. It would be so much easier if not for how they had come to be in this situation in the first place.

 

This had started in his dreams. He hadn't known to suspect anything. He hadn't known to feel threatened. All he knew was that it felt really, really good and he was starting to wake up with his sheets stained. He started off embarrassed, truthfully. It didn't matter how many times he received the 'it's totally natural for a teenaged boy' speech, he was still somewhat concerned by the frequency.

 

At first he didn't recall the dreams, only woke up with the warm sensation of having had palms caress certain areas of his body and a wet spot on his boxers. He never recalled seeing anything, just feeling. He could hear, but usually he only heard the sound of his own breathing. There was never any indication that someone else was present. Well, other than the hands that slid over his chest, across his throat, down his sides, down to his nether regions, stroking him, applying pressure to his entrance, teasing him . . . Jesus, he could get hard just thinking about it. Every now and then he'd feel a body press against his back and those were the nights he woke up a sweaty, panting, practically screaming mess.

 

When he discovered who was behind those dreams, he was less than pleased. In fact, said dream had ended in the middle of him being stroked and touched, back pressed against an unseen individual's front as hot lips and breath darted over his neck and shoulder. The hand had slowed for a moment, and he'd gasped out, “Please don't stop.”

 

The response? “I like the way you beg, Pine tree.” He'd jerked upright in his own bed, shrieking in terror and yet still burdened with a massive hard-on. He heard Bill's laughter echoing even after he'd woken up. From the sound of it, he was having a blast.

 

He'd avoided going back to sleep for a long time, convincing himself he could evade the demon and the embarrassment of having played into his hands. Until now. Now, he was faced with a decision.

 

My . . . my family doesn't have to know?” he stammered, trying hard to focus on the dilemma and not the way Bill's breath ghosted over the skin of his cheek, neck, and shoulder.

 

Bill hummed, and Dipper was once again struck with how ridiculously attractive Bill had made his human form. It wasn't fair. No human being with or without eyesight could deny his attractiveness and knowing that those hands were the ones that had stroked him so many nights without his knowledge only served to make his stomach turn more. “If you want to walk around outside of the mindscape with this on,” he shook the collar in his hand, the metal making a small clinking noise that actually intimidated Dipper, “don't let me be the one to stop you.” Dipper shook his head. The demon could see him hesitating, tugging nervously at the bonds on his wrists. He knew that Dipper wanted this at least a little. Dipper knew he wanted it. Bill hovered closer, body pressed fully against Dipper's side as he whispered directly into his ear. “Think about it, Pine tree. All that knowledge, yours. All those secrets, uncovered. You are already so important to the citizens of Gravity Falls.” A hand slid up Dipper's bare back, making him tremble. He'd tried desperately not to think of the fact that he was naked. Naked, bound, and vulnerable in the presence of a demon who was asking so much of him. A demon who could so easily take him. Dipper's breath caught on that thought as said demon tilted Dipper's head upwards and mused, “Savior of the town, protector from the great unknown. Go ahead. Brag about what you've already accomplished without me.” Bill chuckled, the sound making the hair on Dipper's body stand on end. “Then imagine what you could do with me. As your guide. Your lord.” Dipper squeezed his eyes shut, a moan escaping his throat as he shuddered at the words. “I only ask of you one, simple thing.” The hand not bearing the collar slid to grip the back of Dipper's neck and the young man couldn't help whimpering at the golden gaze boring into him. “Let me rule you.”

 

Dipper quivered at the press of Bill's lips to his cheek, squirmed at the thought of being controlled. That's what this was: control. He couldn't forget that. He couldn't let himself forget that that's what the demon was truly after, no matter how he phrased it. He was trying to phrase this like Dipper had a choice, like he had at least some ability to change his mind in the matter. Honestly he was starting to grow frightened of saying no to the demon.

 

But his touch was so warm, and the need to know what knowledge he possessed was so tempting . . . .

 

Dipper closed his eyes as Bill's tongue skated over the shell of his ear, the demon practically panting as he watched Dipper begin to cower at his offer. Would it be so hard? To submit? To be enslaved? From what Bill described, it should be easy. Dipper could continue as he typically did, he could solve all the mysteries and be the hero of the town. That was all he'd ever wanted. He had just never imagined Bill would be the one providing him with the knowledge that would give him that kind of power. He never imagined he'd even consider an arrangement like this. He had also never imagined enjoying the way Bill's hands could tease him, work him open, make him beg and plead . . . .

 

It wasn't fair. It simply wasn't fair how easily Bill had sneaked back into the forefront of his mind without the courtesy of letting him know that his dreams hadn't been dreams at all, but real and just . . . he was afraid. He was excited and afraid, and he didn't know what to do in this situation. Every fiber of his being was screaming no, but the memory of Bill's touch told him to accept this offer. Not fair, he continued to think. He hated how easily he was giving in to this . . . seduction.

 

I just,” he hesitated. It was hard to think with the demon so close (hot breath in his ear, on his neck, eyes so bright it felt like there was a light burning right beside his cheek) and no way to push him away. “I just . . . I get all of this stuff, and I just,” his voice cracked and trembled, “belong . . . to you.”

 

Body, mind, and soul.” He couldn't tell if the shivers that sent down his spine were ones of fear or titillation. It didn't matter. Either way, the demon was groaning in his ear, eyes half lidded while the hand grasping Dipper's nape was massaging and caressing. “It's not so bad, Pine tree. You'll enjoy what I do with you.” A deep chested purr escaped Bill and Dipper was struggling. He was truly struggling to keep focused. “In fact, you already have.”

 

Dipper gasped, cheeks and neck tinted red at the reminder of what they'd already done together. “That doesn't count. I didn't know it was real,” he squeaked out. He should be uncomfortable. Well, he was, but not nearly as uncomfortable as he should actually feel. He should feel violated by what had happened, what had been happening. Instead, the recollections only served to depict the sort of treatment he could expect in the future if he accepted. Only this was Bill Cipher he was dealing with. He had to know that wasn't all he should expect.

 

The demon didn't mock him for his concerns this time, though Dipper knew he very easily could have. Instead his tone turned serious as he said, “There is still time to back out. You should feel lucky I like you this much.” The hand holding the collar drew back slightly and Dipper felt himself start to panic. “Otherwise I wouldn't offer you the chance to say no.”

 

Dipper's hands twitched in his bonds, and he didn't know what was coming over him. Was this a trick? It had to be. Bill was just trying to entice him more. He hated to admit that it was working, as he was beginning to think this wasn't as bad an idea as he originally thought. His suspicions let him bite out one last question, though. “What's the catch? There's always a catch with you.”

 

The laugh was much more sinister this time, and Dipper was caught between flinching and freezing to save himself from what might follow that sound. “Oh Pine tree,” Bill cooed, “what could possibly be more shocking than agreeing to be,” his voice dropped to a soft whisper, “my little bitch?” Bill laughed as Dipper tried to push away with that, the hand on the back of his neck tightening. “You honestly think,” he struggled to say through his mirth, “there will ever be anyone else who can touch you like I can?” Bill released his neck and something, a shadow or hand or other entity, spun Dipper around so that his back was to the demon. One of Bill's arms encircled Dipper's waist, holding him close as the other cupped his chin while still holding the collar. “You think there's someone else out there who can make you beg the way I can?” Bill drew back and the entity spun him again so that he practically fell against the demon's chest. He squealed shamefully when the demon steadied him by grabbing Dipper's bare ass. “Make you scream the way I can?” Bill chuckled. The demon's eyes flashed dangerously as he snarled, “The thought that such a person might exist really makes me angry, Pine tree.” Dipper was stuck staring up, face completely flushed and eyes pleading for mercy, space, anything that might help him gain some ground on this battle.

 

What a silly notion. They both knew Dipper was already losing. All Bill had to do was shift his hips against the human's the slightest bit and he'd feel just how triumphant he already was. Dipper shouldn't enjoy this. He shouldn't enjoy this at all. He shouldn't like being surrounded by darkness, bound with ropes, or being held against a demon who'd taken advantage of him in more ways than one. He shouldn't enjoy the way Bill spoke to him, made him promises of pleasures beyond measure all in exchange for . . . him . “I . . .,” Dipper didn't know what to even say. He gulped. “I . . . I don't know, I don't think I can—”

 

How about another taste first?” And just like that, Dipper was on his knees.

 

He panicked, but Bill was already sliding behind him and bending him over at the waist. “Bill?!” he cried.

 

Hold this for me.” Suddenly the gold collar was shoved painfully into his mouth, his teeth protesting against the metal as the demon hummed. “You might as well. It's yours if you want it.” And then Bill was rubbing his clothed hips against Dipper's rear and Dipper was terrified to drop the collar no matter how much it hurt his teeth or how much he wanted to scream. His teeth ground against the metal as Bill started grinding against his ass and holy shit how was Dipper already so hard? Muffled cries escaped past the collar and he was lost. He was so utterly lost to demon's touch that the moment Bill's hand wrapped around his throbbing cock he was ready to scream his answer. Bill's hand was slow, movements calculated. He brought Dipper right up to the edge, but didn't let him go over. The pressure that built up in his abdomen threatened to implode and Dipper felt the collar slipping from his mouth as his jaw started going slack. “Now, wouldn't it be easier with that around your neck?” Clamping his teeth back down on the metal, he felt Bill's hardness abruptly press against him through the demon's pants. Oh God, no. Oh God, he wanted it so bad and he fucking knew he shouldn't. Keening brokenly around the collar he pressed his forehead into the ground and inadvertently raised his hips higher. The demon chuckled at that, hand still stroking him as the other slid from Dipper's hip, up his side, over his chest eventually to pull the gold from his mouth. Dipper's teeth hurt from the biting and scraping against the collar, but he missed the gag, the inability to speak, the lack of control. “Answer the question, Pine tree.” Dipper nodded hastily, his vocal cords refusing to work. Bill's laugh traveled up his spine as the demon's hips stopped moving. The hand still stroked though. The hand kept him on the edge, whimpering and sweating and almost begging for more. “One word could end this all for you, Pine tree. But,” he jumped at the same time as his heart skipped a beat, “with another single word, I can give you all I have promised and more.” Dipper's breath hitched. He was afraid. He was so very afraid, but something else sprang up inside of him and he just . . . couldn't say no. “One word, Pine tree. That's all it takes.”

 

Master.” The word spilled forth from his lips and he didn't know where it had come from. His eyes went wide and Bill's hand stopped entirely, and the way the demon stilled made Dipper close his eyes, flinch, and anticipate danger.

 

Instead, another much louder purr reached his ears and the hand slid from his nether regions. He was about to ask before cold, semi-wet metal draped across his nape and locked rather than clasped in the front. Dipper gasped, panting and eyes resuming their wide state as Bill leaned down and growled in his ear, “I would have settled for yes.” Dipper wasn't quite sure when the demon had moved, but suddenly Bill's cock was free and pressing against Dipper. A hand cradled his chin and something, a leash, tugged on his collar. Dipper's breaths grew more frantic as he felt talons growing on Bill's fingers, scraping his cheeks. “But I like the way you say Master.” Lips brushed the part of his nape that wasn't covered in gold now. “Say it again.”

 

If saying it again was going to make Bill stop stalling and just take him already, Dipper would drop every last word in his vocabulary except, “Master.” There was a split second where nothing happened, then suddenly Bill plunged into him Dipper didn't know whether to cry or scream or something like both.

 

The slicked entry was so abrupt and painful, but in one second Bill pulled out and Dipper was about to sob. Then Bill uttered, “Again,” the word followed by a low groan and a shudder through the demon that Dipper could feel.

 

Master.” Bill filled him again, then pulled out just as quickly. Dipper would have been kissing the ground from the impact if not for the hand firmly gripping his jaw.

 

Again,” the demon growled, and Dipper was starting to catch on.

 

Master.” Bill thrust in and this time he didn't wait to be ordered to say it again. “Master.” Dipper keened at another thrust into him, the demon's hips snapping a little harder against him this time. Before he could think clearly or wait for Bill to respond, he was setting a pace by repeating the word the demon was so keen to hear on his lips and oh God it felt good. It felt incredible and painful and frightening and just so fucking good all at once as he shouted and moaned and whimpered the word, “Master,” over and over and quicker and quicker and he was ready to come. He was so ready to come, until Bill slid his palm over Dipper's mouth and forced him into silence. He could feel the demon's breath on his back as Bill ceased his movements and left small, teasing nips up and down his spine. Dipper sweated and whined into the demon's hand as he slowly came back down from the edge.

 

You're easily trained. Good,” were the words whispered against his back before Dipper's brow furrowed and he started screaming against the demon's palm in frustration. Bill laughed, smile pressed to Dipper's back as suddenly his hands were freed and the leash was gone, the demon flipping him over onto his back. When his back hit the floor, knees aching from having been pressed into the hard ground, his head started spinning. His vision faded in and out as his arms were pinned above his head and something slid around his wrists to hold them in place. His eyes shot wide at the slimy texture of the new bonds and he wound up staring up at Bill, demon now straddling his waist and tossing a knife back and forth between his two hands. Dipper's eyes locked on the knife and his gut started twisting again, panicked cries leaving his mouth before something equally slimy slid in between his teeth and effectively silenced him. His mouth burned from the wet, black . . . appendage and he tried tossing his head from side to side to remove it only for the thing to tighten and wrap around his head to hold it still. He cried against the new gag, pulling uselessly against the bonds while looking up at a Bill who looked entirely too satisfied with how things were playing out. “Now then,” another black entity manifested and slid around Dipper's neck, squeezing just enough to make him go completely still with fright, “how shall I mark you as mine?” A small whine barely audible past the thing gagging him made Bill's smile widen further, eyes glowing blue as sharp teeth flashed dangerously. “My name in your nonsensical language? My name in my cipher? My wheel? There are so many options.” The thing around his neck tightened more and he grew lightheaded, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he struggled to keep breathing. Something pressed against his entrance and he arched upward toward the demon, a moan ripping from his lungs as the demon laughed and pushed his hips back down with his own. “How do you like my friends here? From what I remember, you rather enjoyed them.” Nights of dark dreams where hands roamed his body and stroked him returned to the forefront of his mind and he couldn't help but think that no, those hands had not felt like this. This wasn't the same. It couldn't be. “I know you enjoyed this,” and the entity teasing his hole suddenly plunged into him and his back arched again and he found himself biting down on his gag. It didn't respond at all to his teeth, nor did the thing wrapped around his throat let up even as he screamed at the feeling of being filled again. Bill hummed, then leaned down to press an almost tender kiss to Dipper's cheek before uttering, “Technically this is the first time I actually get to touch you and not just tease you with these.” He ran a finger over the black gag and the look he gave Dipper could only be described as predatory. “I was so looking forward to your yes, and I must say,” the thing inside him began thrusting and the noises Dipper made were purely hysterical, “you don't disappoint.” The demon laughed again, sliding down Dipper's body as the knife settled in one palm. He disappeared out of Dipper's line of sight, fingers starting to circle the sensitive skin around his hipbone as he uttered, “A picture of me will do. And it'll go right here.”

 

A sharp point dug into Dipper's hip and the appendages around his neck, wrists, and mouth tightened. The scream that wanted to come pouring from his mouth drowned as his head grew lighter and the only sensations left for him to feel were those of being fucked while Bill dragged the knife through his flesh. The combination of pain, pleasure, and suffocation made parts of him go numb and yet somehow he couldn't think of a single time where he had been harder in his life. He couldn't think at all, vision hazy and mind fogged over from the overwhelming stimuli. He vocalized what he could, mouth filled completely enough for every noise to be muffled but not enough to choke him. No, the appendage that was actually choking him didn't need any help. So little breath made it past his compressed throat that the lightness was causing the numbness to grow more pronounced, and soon the feeling of being cut open was just as pleasurable as the appendage moving in and out of him without faltering or pausing. His eyes closed and he gave into the sensations, feeling himself nearing the edge once more and just as he was about to teeter over it he let out a cry much louder than the others.

 

Then yet another entity wrapped around the base of his cock and squeezed so hard his insides tightened and he couldn't come. He simply couldn't. He cried out against the gag, tears gathering in his eyes as his frustration began to manifest in the form of broken sobs. Meanwhile, the demon laughed and continued carving into his hip. Tears spilled down his face as the appendage on his neck loosened, allowing him more breath than he'd had before. With breath came realization and the return of the pain of the blade being dragged over his skin. Bill was marking him, fucking him, claiming him as his.

 

He was Bill's.

 

Bill was his master now.

 

And all he could do was lie there and take it.

 

His fists clenched as the knife retreated along with the gag and the thing that had previously been suffocating him. With it gone, he could feel the collar's weight once more and that pulled a broken sob from his now free mouth. He couldn't tell what was causing him the most distress: the knowledge that he'd just sold his soul for some additional knowledge or the fact that the appendage that had once been inside him was retreating also. He closed his eyes, feeling the dark slime on the corners of his mouth and the tears running from his eyes. His hip was sore, but he couldn't look up to see what Bill had done to him. His hips couldn't even buck up after his cock was released and the demon's cheek brushed against its leaking tip while he licked the blood from the wound he'd made. Dipper just stayed still, chest heaving as Bill's tongue ran along the lines of blood and marred flesh. The wet, hot muscle stung as it lapped up the blood on Dipper's hip, Bill's talons digging into his side enough to make him gasp. Pulling in as much air as he could, he started to ask through the tears and heaves, “Bill, please—”

 

What happened to Master?” Dipper bit his lip, clamping his mouth shut and holding his breath as he continued squeezing his eyes shut. “Bit late to be having second thoughts, Pine tree.” He knew. The collar was a heavy enough reminder. A finger passed over a part of his raw injury, bloodying itself before coming up to Dipper's lips. “You should taste yourself, my pet. I think you'll find yourself rather . . . delicious.” Dipper hesitated before gasping again, lips parting to allow Bill's finger to slip into his mouth. The metallic taste of his blood hit his tongue and he didn't know if it was because of the slimy appendage that had previously been in his mouth or the lack of oxygen and blood in his brain. Either way, his blood suddenly tasted delectable and he found himself tonguing the demon's finger. His tongue circled the digit and sucked until all traces of the flavor was gone and when the demon pulled his finger from his lips, claw scraping the human's tongue lightly, Dipper dared to open his eyes and look at him. What he saw was Bill Cipher, breath hitching and eyes narrowed on Dipper like he was starving and Dipper was to be his first meal after God knows how long. It was Dipper's turn for his breath to hitch when Bill's hands went to his waist and gripped his sides hard, talons biting into his skin and making Dipper groan and whimper. “You've been very good, Pine tree.” Bill positioned himself between Dipper's legs and Dipper continued vocalizing with a need that burned him from the inside. “If you ask nicely, I might let you come this time.”

 

Dipper swallowed hard, blinking as the word 'might' sank in and he decided to lay it on as thick as he could. He picked his words carefully, trying his hardest not to stammer, “Please, may I come Master Cipher?” He should have been disappointed in himself with how desperate he sounded. He should hate himself for pitifully reducing himself to begging for this.

 

But a growl escaped the demon's lips as he lifted Dipper's hips enough to thrust into him once more, forcing Dipper to throw his head back and keen at the sudden breach. He lost all sense of self-loath as Bill's hand wrapped around him again and started pumping. Dipper all but screamed as the demon, Bill, his Master watched him with glowing eyes as he pounded into him in time with his strokes. Dipper reached the edge much quicker than before, bracing himself for an abrupt halt that would utterly destroy him. When it didn't happen and his insides finally grew hot from the start of release, he held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut only to see white. He shuddered as come spilled from his tip, a sob of relief falling from his lips as Bill stilled his movements and spilled inside of him. Bill almost fell forward, hands bracing on either side of Dipper's head as the last of the appendages released Dipper's arms. He couldn't bring himself to move, however. He was stuck, a panting and sweating mess trapped beneath an equally out of breath Bill Cipher.

 

His Master.

 

He actually didn't flinch as Bill lowered his head enough to kiss the part of Dipper's neck that wasn't covered by the collar. “Good boy,” he whispered, the words making something flood Dipper's stomach. He wasn't sure that was a good sign yet.

 

Before he could stop himself, he whispered back, “Thank you,” his throat hoarse from practically screaming, he tacked on, “Master.” He was going to have to get used to calling him that now, he supposed.

 

Bill hummed against his cheek, pressing his lips to the side of Dipper's face before whispering, “I'll see you tomorrow night, then,” Dipper's eyes fluttered open to find himself in his room just as the demon uttered in his ear, “pet.”

 

He lay on his bed in the attic for several minutes, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. When he tested his limbs, he found the only thing holding him down was drowsiness from just having woken up. A hand slid from beneath his pillow to run over his throat to find there was no collar weighing heavily on his neck. He stayed still for a moment, breathing somewhat heavily as he tried cataloging the condition of the rest of his body. In the end, he discovered that none of the feelings and sensations he'd had in that night's dream had carried over into reality. All he felt was the warmth of just waking up and a need to get out from under his comforter. Sitting up slowly, he discovered he was wrong on that account. Sighing and pushing back the covers, there was indeed a telltale wet spot on his boxers.

 

Sliding his legs off the bed and to the floor, curiosity took hold and he found himself staring at a still clothed portion of his hip. Heart pounding, a tremor of fear shot through him as he wondered if he would find anything there if he lifted his shirt. He scratched part of his arm, wondering if he should just wait to look when he took a shower that morning (because the only way he wasn't going to feel disgusting after last night would be if he showered). But he couldn't wait. He had to know. With trembling fingers, he took hold of the hem of his shirt with one hand and slid his other hand under his boxers. Pulling back the clothes, his whole body stiffened and his eyes widened as he found himself staring at an already scarified image of a certain triangle demon.

 

He swore he heard a laugh when he uttered, “Fuck.” He wasn't even sure two showers could remedy the way he felt at the moment.