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Mahito wasn’t one to seek out pleasures of the flesh, yet that didn’t stop him from turning down a good time. Kenjaku had cornered him upon his arrival to the ruined apartment block their beach was hidden in, pressing the curse up against a wall with more force than needed. Normally Mahito hated being pushed around or told what to do, but this wouldn’t be the first time Kenjaku had forced him into something that turned out more than fun for him.
Kenjaku’s lips pressed hard against Mahito’s, opening just enough to nip at the curse’s bottom lip before shifting down to show the same attention to his neck. His hands drifting down and making short work of Mahito’s tight pants.
A soft sigh left the curse’s lips, relishing in the feeling of Kenjaku’s lips and teeth on his neck. The sudden encounter was making his head spin. He didn’t quite understand but knew enough about Kenjaku to know that sometimes the man just wanted to let off some stress this way. Sometimes it was too messy to relieve stress Mahito’s preferred way, torturing humans, so he didn’t mind the attention.
Once Kenjaku had Mahito’s pants undone, he gracefully dropped to his knees in front of the curse. Pulling the pants down to Mahito’s ankles as he pressed his lips against Mahito’s thighs, kissing the soft flesh along the stitches. Mahito shuddered at the soft, gentle treatment. It was rare for them to have a tender moment like this, but the curse couldn’t deny that it felt good.
The soft kisses turned to nips, Kenjaku focused fully on the curse’s thighs.
Mahito whined, a quiet sound that sounded more desperate than he actually felt. Mahito didn’t usually need to ask Kenjaku to give him what he wanted, the man usually working his cock with a practiced hand. This time however, Mahito’s now hard cock was ignored, the only attention it got was the tickle of Kenjaku’s hair as he played with the stitching on the curse’s thigh.
Ignoring the pleading sounds from the curse above him, Kenjaku slid his hands up to hold Mahito’s trembling legs still. Fingers running along the stitching just like his tongue was. The movements teasing almost, dancing across the edge of the pleasure Mahito was used to receiving when Kenjaku was in front of him like this.
Kenjaku knew he wasn’t giving Mahito what he wanted, but that didn’t matter to him. His goal was different, a curiosity inside of him much too similar to the morbid curiosity inside the curse he pressed his lips against.
The stitches that covered Mahito’s body had always been enticing to Kenjaku. Some of them placed almost randomly while others sectioned off body parts in a way that brought dismemberment to mind. Kenjaku wasn’t sure why they were there, but he wanted to see if they were as sensitive as his own.
Pressing a firm kiss to Mahito’s thigh, Kenjaku pulled away, looking up at the curse’s flushed face. The desperation in Mahito’s mismatched eyes almost surprised Kenjaku, such a human emotion upon the curse’s face almost made him laugh. Smiling instead, he reached a hand out to find Mahito’s, wrapping the curse’s fingers around his own cock.
“If you want it so badly, then touch yourself,” Kenjaku teased the curse, his words pointing out the obvious answer to Mahito’s desperation.
Mahito hadn’t done this before, not to himself anyway, his only experience was what Kenjaku had done to him. As he felt Kenjaku’s lips reconnect to his thigh, he tried to emulate the man’s actions, hand wrapped firmly around his hard cock. It felt better than he expected, strange but the pleasure was almost the same as when Kenjaku touched him.
Stroking slowly at first, Mahito quickly sped up when he realized that he could chase the euphoric pleasure at his own pace. The curse was nothing if not indulgent in his own desires.
With Mahito’s attention elsewhere, Kenjaku could now focus on sating his own curiosity. A line of stitches circled Mahito’s thigh, Kenjaku pressed a kiss to the seam before digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Nails biting into the skin as he tugged at the stitches, it didn’t take long before they gave way, blood leaking out slowly as a small rip was formed along the once pristine circle of stitching.
Mahito’s pained gasp turned into a choked moan as his hand continued to pump at his hard cock. The sharp sensation of being torn open mixed with the pleasure the curse felt and he couldn’t help but moan. It was almost like the pain wasn’t really that painful at all, his skin so sensitive it almost felt pleasant.
Kenjaku felt a smile creep onto his face at Mahito’s reaction, part of him expected the curse to try and kick him over, so this was a welcomed response. Pressing his face back into the curse’s thigh, Kenjaku licked the newly opened stitches. Mahito’s blood tasted different than human blood, less iron and more of something he couldn’t quite name.
Tracing the wound with his tongue, he found that the flesh wasn’t jagged, and he couldn’t find any thread that would normally accompany a stitching such as this. He supposed there was nothing normal about Mahito though, so it wasn’t really that surprising. What did surprise Kenjaku was that inside the stitching it seemed like there was just more skin, instead of the normal musculature of the human body.
It was an interesting discovery, Kenjaku thought, his interest in the most human-like curse he’d ever met growing again.
Returning his lips to the wound, Kenjaku pressed open mouthed kisses to the bloodied and torn skin. Tongue slipping inside and teasing the stitching and the flesh it hid. It was a passionate kiss that one would generally share with a lover during a heated moment, instead being shared with the tear that he had created with the curse’s thigh.
The strange attention Kenjaku was giving his thigh was too much for the curse. Mahito had been dancing around the edge of orgasm for a while, not quite being able to push himself over the edge despite how desperately he stroked himself. This odd feeling and the tenderness of Kenjaku’s kisses mixed with the pain of the wound in his leg was just enough to get him there.
A strained moan left Mahito’s throat as he finished into his hand, his legs trembling from the sudden climax and the pain in his thigh. He hadn’t expected things to finish so quickly, Kenjaku usually teasing him longer and drawing out the experience.
Kenjaku pulled his face away from Mahito’s thigh, looking up at the flushed curse as a bloody grin spread itself across his face. This was something he’d like to try again, testing Mahito’s sensitivity and seeing just how much he could tear at the seams of the curse’s stitching.