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Defiled Rock Star

Chapter Text

Imai loved their Airbnb. He picked it out, due to the amount of space it offered. He chalked it up to it being in a smaller town in Tennessee, because a flat this size in a big city back in his home country would be nearly unaffordable, but it appeared not to be here. The owner charged a fairly low fee for it, which was an added bonus. Imai rented out the space for two weeks, one of which was spent by himself preparing the space. Atsushi spent the week sightseeing by himself before joining him. It was the perfect amount of time, both to prepare and to keep Atsushi on edge- wonder what he’d do to him.

Imai planned for the punishment to take place on Atsushi’s second day after joining him, which gave him enough time to recover afterwards until they moved on to a regular hotel and onto their next destination. Atsushi was just as anxious to see what it would be, wondering what was behind the locked door in their Airbnb, but the day finally came after eight days of waiting.

Imai made sure to call in the order a few hours before hand, giving the local Cracker Barrel location time to prepare it. In the meantime, before Imai received a callback from them, he prepared Atsushi. They discussed it before, that for his punishment, he would be blindfolded up until the very start, so Atsushi spent the few hours of the day in darkness. Imai was sure to be gentle with him, his movements careful and slow at every part. First, a bath and brushing his teeth as regular bodily hygiene, though Imai enjoyed teasing his gag reflex with the toothbrush. Then, Atsushi’s only clothing for the day- a collar custom made for him with the word ‘PIGGY’ spelled out in bold metal lettering on the front. It looked cute on him, though now that Imai looked at it, gold lettering looked a tad tacky against Atsushi’s pale skin. It was too late to change it now, so he went with it.

It was a struggle leading Atsushi to the designated room for this activity, given the fact he received the callback from Cracker Barrel in the middle of it. It’s a bit hard to keep him from wandering off with his arms outstretched, but Imai manages. Imai rushes a bit after that, settling Atsushi into the room, with his one wrist cuffed to the radiator. Imai leaves him with the key just in case, and then takes off for the restaurant.


The hostess is kind enough when he picks up the order, though they do send a busboy to help him load it into his rental car. There was an awkward conversation where Imai had to lie for the purpose of the large order, but other than that, there is no problem. The drive back to his accommodation however, is a learning experience. The first stoplight has him reaching out an arm to catch one of the bags in the passenger seat from flying off, so he has to learn to be more gentle.

He manages to make it back with no spillage, which is surprising. Thankfully, nothing had happened in his absence and Atsushi is right where he left him. It’s cute how his ears perk up when Imai walks in the room. Maybe they should utilize the blindfold more often, because it’s giving Imai an ego boost how stupidly helpless he is, and how all of his attention goes to Imai out of nothing more than necessity.

Imai pushes back those thoughts as he prepares Atsushi’s meal. The workers at Cracker Barrel were thoughtful, because they separated the sides in their own individual containers. It made it easy as he poured cup after little cup of every side on the Cracker Barrel menu into the trough. Imai had gotten the idea from one of the photos Atsushi sent of his travels when he took a tour of a farm, and finding such a thing in their small town wasn’t nearly as hard as it would’ve been if Imai attempted this back in Japan. It was a fairly small one, and it was quite shallow compared to other models Imai had seen, but it was perfect. There were a few sides Imai elected to not include, like the few fruit sides, the salad, and baked potatoes, which he would probably eat himself. They just seemed out of place in the mix. At one point, Imai was fearful that it would overfill, but as the last container- of a particularly vile one of turnip greens, which he personally found disgusting- was emptied, everything was fine.

It smelled vile, and looked worse. Baby carrots swam in what looked like vomit, and so many of the texsturess did just not mix well together. Green juices from the country green beans and turnip greens floated on top, spreading out and covering everything. It took all of Imai’s strength to not gag when looking at it, and Atsushi’s face was screwed up in disgust too. The smell was making Imai desperate to get out of there, so he lazily unpacks the chicken. He instead leaves them just in the packaging they came in, stacked up right next to the trough.

Imai unlocks Atsushi after that, and has no trouble leading him to where he wants him to be. Atsushi is knelt in front of the trough and then the blind fold is removed. Imai warns him to keep his eyes closed for a few seconds before they adjust to the light.

When Atsushi can finally see properly, he looks at the sight in front of him, “Ew.” Despite the sole purpose of this punishment being to teach him to not be such a selfish, entitled, brat, he still complains anyway. His loss.

“Oh don’t say ew, this feast is all for you piggy.” Atsushi visibly reacts to the word, but it won’t be the first nor the last time he’ll be referred to as such, “Your favorite restaurant and you get to eat all of this by yourself.” Imai doesn’t have much to say after that, so he gathers the sides he reserved for himself and makes his way to the door. Once on the other side, he keeps the door open, but sets up the baby gate again. Atsushi watches him quietly, as he leaves.

Imai figures after an hour or two he’ll be back there again, so he didn’t plan on doing much. The room Atsushi was in was just off of the living room, so he could easily peer in. Imai settled on the couch, with a cup of Cracker Barrel’s fresh fruit in one hand and the television remote in another as he flipped through the channels to find something to watch.


Despite Imai’s predictions, Atsushi didn’t need him until it had passed the four hour mark. If Imai listened closely, he could hear the man eat out of the trough. But as time passed, the formerly crispy skin of the fried chicken became soggy and no longer audible. When Imai peered in, Atsushi had cleaned out quite a bit of the food laid out in front of him. The disgusting concoction of side dishes was nearly empty, and five out of the eight containers of fried chicken were opened and empty, nothing but chicken bones remaining. There was a sixth open beside Atsushi, but he was merely picking at the skin, not even a bite taken.

“Piggy, are you full?” The food made Atsushi sluggish to the point that he did nothing but nod. Understandable. “Well, lets make some room then.” Imai lifts Atsushi’s chin using his index finger, before unbuckling his pants and exposing his flaccid cock. They’ve done this so many times that Atsushi just takes over naturally.

After a long time of licking and bobbing his head on Imai’s cock, Atsushi finally coaxed him to full hardness. Imai stays silent as he plants a hand on the back of his head, and naturally Atsushi relaxes his jaw. It’s not the first time Imai has fucked his throat, but this is the first Imai has purposefully teased the back of his throat and made him gag over and over again. At one point, Imai cramming his dick into the back of Atsushi’s throat. Imai feels the cavern spasm and tears pour out of his submissive’s eyes as he hits Imai on the hip and thigh, trying to signal something to him. After Atsushi nearly feels his food rise up again, he uses his remaining strength and finally pulls away. He crawls away from Imai, burping almost nonstop, trying to control himself. It takes a minute or two for it to subside, before Imai says anything.

“Come on back, we’ve got to try again without you chickening out at the last second.” The look Atsushi shoots him is a dark scowl, “How else did you think we were going to make room in your tiny little stomach?” Atsushi takes a breath to process it all, before crawling back in front of Imai.

The second time around, Imai is a bit more brutal in his pace, but he can hear Atsushi gag every time he hits a certain spot in the back of his throat. The vocalist keeps a grip on Imai’s thighs, clenching every time it becomes particularly difficult. After a while, Imai finally get him to puke. It’s hard, and Atsushi cries as it happens, as it pours down his chest, but Imai wipes his tears and coos comforting words at him. But Imai won’t let up, and they start again. It’s quicker the second time, but it still painful on Atsushi’s said and Imai can tell he’ll have bruises on his hops from that.

After making a little more room in Atsushi’s stomach, Imai leaves him to wash and change into something clean and for Atsushi to finish up the last of his meal. Imai won’t let him suffer too long, and cleans up the room and Atsushi a bit. Truthfully, he only hastened to cleaning up quickly because the smell began to drift. Though, as Imai took a damp towel to Atsushi’s chest, he got an idea. After scrubbing the bit of the floor where Atsushi puked and where he spilled some of his sides, Imai sets to work on making his idea come true.

He left briefly to fetch a sharpie from one of the drawers in the kitchen, before appearing again.

“Stop eating.” It’s not difficult for Atsushi to do anyway, but Imai feels the need to say it. “Turn towards me.” Again, not difficult. Quickly, he uncaps the sharpie and begins writing. ‘Impatient’ is scrawled across Atsushi’s chest. ‘Rude’ goes up above his collar bone, before Imai moves higher to his cheek, with ‘slut’ written on one side in english. Then to his forehead, where Imai has to tell him to relax. Imai’s laughs to himself as he scrawls the word ‘bitch’ onto it, because it reminds him of a similar marking he had done on his cheek years ago. He busies himself with writing a few more words on Atsushi’s body, all having to do with his treatment of his fellow members and how he treated hide. Before the marking becomes too cluttered, Imai stops.

He gathers Atsushi up and leads him to the bathroom, right to the mirror. Imai stands behind him as Atsushi takes a few minutes to look at it all. His eyes start at the collar, where tears already begin to gather. His eyes dart between all of the words, blinking more and more as more tears pour down his cheeks. Atsushi barely moves to wipe his own tears, and when he’s finally done, he just stares at the countertop of the bathroom, unable to look at himself.

“Piggy, have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes, master.”