Work Text:
Back straight and eyes forward, Majima walked through the Grand with his steel-tipped shoes barely whispering against the carpeted floor.
He was the manager.
The thought made him stumble, unexpectedly and unacceptably clumsy in a position he knew would require all the grace and poise he could muster. More eyes would be turned to his every move, and more tongues would wag should he behave in a manner below his new station. There were infinite possibilities that could lead to disaster, but this role had been promised as a faster route to his freedom.
He would do anything, he knew that. Absolutely anything to break free of the suffocating bonds that tied his body to Sotenbori, that kept his soul in the grip of a man who did not seem to possess one of his own. Even if it meant holding a position that seemed elevated on the surface yet still kept him subservient to anyone who approached him. It would all be worth it once he was free and had a place for his kyoudai to return to. No matter how much bowing and scraping there would be to do first.
His thoughts were elsewhere, and he was not focused on his new occupation. He might have waved off a few concerned patrons and waitstaff here and there. It should be excused; he was new to this. He was learning.
"Excuse me, sir?"
The words forcibly removed him from his reverie, and his response was less than professional. "Uh, yeah?"
The waiter who had approached was also taken aback by his new manager, who looked every bit the refined gentleman with his crisp tuxedo and sleek ponytail but was responding in such a crude manner. "I- I beg your pardon, sir, if you were distracted with other issues. But there is a patron at table 15 who is specifically requesting your attention as soon as possible."
Majima straightened up again, remembering his task in the first place. He had gone to fetch more glasses from the bar for another table whose occupants had been powering through their drinks with reckless abandon. Surely he needed to keep a closer eye on that table than the new request.
"Thank you. I'll get to it," he promised with a dismissive wave. The waiter backed away, still looking concerned.
It must have been half an hour, at least, before he remembered table 15. The heavy-drinking patrons had taken a great deal of manipulation before they could be persuaded not to cause a scene that would be entirely inappropriate for a fine establishment like the Grand, even if he personally would have liked to see the situation devolve into an all-out brawl. That would have been more his style than this classy, stifling elegance. He could look the part but certainly would never feel it.
"Table 15," he muttered. He had memorized the layout and knew where to go without looking. Unfocused on his surroundings, he immediately jerked to attention when he realized who was seated there, the usually pale angles of his face going even whiter around the deep shade of his eyepatch. "Sagawa-han, I... beg your pardon."
His arm around a scantily-clad, smiling hostess, Sagawa didn't appear disgruntled outwardly; his aging features were relaxed and there was the usual hint of a sardonic smirk turning up one corner of his mouth. Yet there was a familiar piercing quality to his gaze as it swept over Majima's entire form before finally settling on his pallid, drawn face.
"Took your time, Majima-chan? Rough first day?"
It took an embarrassing length of time for him to recover. "I- Yes, sir. In a way. It's been... a lot to learn. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long."
"Oh, of course. Don't worry about that," Sagawa replied, though his tone suggested it might be better to worry after all. "Quite the learning curve, such an important job for such a young man." His gaze stabbed through Majima at that moment in a way that made his insides writhe. The knowledge that he'd earned some form of punishment for this misstep was as certain as the fact that he was caged with no escape.
"Aeko-chan, did you hear about the new manager? This is him. Needs a coat of polish, sure, but he looks good, doesn't he? Fills out a tuxedo well. Still has the face of a brute, but what can be done about that, eh?" Sagawa's tone had lightened as he pulled the tiny hostess closer to him, but Majima wasn't fooled at all, just like he wasn't by Aeko's tittering response.
"Oh, no! He has a very handsome face. It's distinctive and unusual. And his eyepatch makes him look so mysterious, like a dark hero in a romance novel... I'm sure all the ladies will love him." She smiled shyly at Majima even as she made a show of cuddling up to Sagawa, and his eye slid away in discomfort.
The older man's laugh was unusually loud. "Oh? What do you think, Majima-chan? Would you be better suited to life in a host club? The romantic hero for too many women to count?"
His leering smile made Majima turn his head outright. "I don't know, sir," he muttered, inappropriately sullen. "If you would think so."
Even flighty Aeko picked up on the shift in atmosphere as Sagawa replied. "Well, I don't. I think you're here to stay. And I'll need to see you upstairs in an hour. Better not keep me waiting this time."
Majima focused his eye downward, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He was used to pain as a training tool and knew he could handle more, but there were times when it was more difficult to accept than others when he knew what he was in for.
"Of course. My deepest apologies, again. Sagawa-han, please have an enjoyable evening."
His words, along with the deepness of his bow, were unheeded before he turned and walked away, his footsteps all but silent this time.
---
With his hands balled into fists for punches he didn't dare throw, Majima stood waiting for Sagawa's attention.
Whenever the older man instructed him to go "upstairs," he actually meant a small office tucked back in the furthest corner of the building, against the back wall and across from a mostly unused storage room. The only key to this room was held by the owner himself.
It might be small, but it was as extravagant as the rest of the Grand, with a single expensive leather couch and footstool, and a corner desk and coffee table of matching mahogany that were always polished to a near-reflective shine. Majima knew how well the room was maintained because he was the one who kept it in order, being forced to wipe the couch clean of dust and polish the wooden furniture to gleaming every time he came here.
Not tonight, however, and it was sending a nervous chill along his spine, as Sagawa had so far only been shuffling papers at the desk with his back turned. Majima shifted from foot to foot in an attempt to alleviate his anxiety, but the noise seemed to attract Sagawa's attention, who soon turned to face him.
"And how has your night been, Mister Manager?"
Majima kept his back straight and his gaze on the floor. "Fine."
The silence following this single word was deafening. Majima finally snuck a glance at the older man, who stared back with a displeased frown.
"Well, that's just unacceptable, Majima-chan. I was expecting 'excellent.'" His voice was quiet in the wrong way; a subtle warning that promised pain. "List your mistakes for the evening so far. I'll know if you leave anything out."
Majima cleared his throat, beginning to recite his supposed list of "misdeeds." They were simple, honest mistakes anyone might make on the first day of their job, and it stung his pride to admit that he'd faltered more than once and was being judged for it.
"...I confused table 10 with table 20 and delivered the wrong drink order. The gentleman at table 29 found my manner too 'brusque,' whatever that's supposed to mean. And I think I wasn't... uh..."
"Fast enough? Efficient enough? Good enough?" Sagawa cut in, his tone scathing. "You said you would do anything, didn't you? You make me a mountain of yen running the Grand, and you're free. Remember?"
"Of course I do," Majima snapped, feeling his cheeks flush with warmth. "Doesn't mean I can work miracles in a job I've never done, that I can't possibly be good at right away-"
Before Majima knew what was happening, Sagawa was across the small space and had fisted a hand in the front of his tuxedo jacket, his murmured words tight with anger. "I beg to differ, you damn dog. Of course, you're the type to need a little more motivation. I know you won't roll over and speak without incentive. But you don't deserve treats. No, that won't work at all."
Majima had frozen in place, not even trembling under the older man's close scrutiny. He wasn't scared, not as such; he thought he'd faced down the worst of what Sagawa could give him. And even worse before that.
So it surprised him when he was released and only given a gentle push to create space between them. Sagawa retreated to sit on the couch, legs spread slightly apart. He removed his suit jacket and slung it over the couch's arm, fingers hooking into the neck of his tie to loosen it as he looked at Majima with an impassive expression.
"You should have done better. You'll do better after this."
Majima watched, brow furrowed in confusion, as Sagawa unbuttoned the right cuff of his dress shirt and rolled the fabric up to his elbow. Unsure of what was happening, he only felt his muscles tense further when the older man reached down and patted his thigh. "Get over."
Unable to make sense of the situation, Majima took a step backward. "What?"
Sagawa heaved a tired sigh. "Your bad behavior needs correcting. And while I'd love to resort to my favorite go-to of chaining you to a post and beating the shit out of you with a bat, you're the manager now, and I can't do that too often. You need to work. Whatever I do to you shouldn't be seen by customers afterward, and it can't be anything to prevent you from moving normally. Mostly. So, what you're going to do, Majima-chan, is bend over my lap so I can spank your ass raw like the snotty brat you are anyway."
His entire body stiffening, Majima stared at him, partly in anger and partly in bewilderment. "What the fuck? I ain't doin' that, ya sick old pervert! Fuck you!"
Unfazed by this outburst, Sagawa patted his thigh again. "Get over. You don't have a single damn choice. Do you?"
He was right, but that didn't stop Majima's brain from reeling. The situation was utterly absurd, and he was trapped, and maybe he actually was scared. This wasn't the same as being tied up and bludgeoned with a heavy object until he was bruised and bleeding. There was a sense of familiarity with that, a normalcy that didn't involve so much embarrassment and shame.
Because that's what he felt as he slowly moved forward, standing at Sagawa's side before easing himself to his knees, trying to avoid the sight of the taunting smirk so close to him. He awkwardly crawled over the older man's lap, his lanky body stretching out so far it felt like he would fall.
Absolute humiliation.
"Oh, good boy," Sagawa crooned mockingly, his left arm tucking around Majima's waist and pulling him in tighter. "Now, ask me for what you deserve. And make it nice."
He'd been wrong. This could get worse. "N-no, I-"
"You ask me right now, you little fucking shit, or I'm taking off my belt," Sagawa hissed, his left hand letting go and grabbing Majima's ponytail instead, yanking his head back viciously.
Fighting against the searing pain on his scalp, Majima managed to gasp out, "I- Please, Sagawa-han- Please spank me, I'm sorry-" He exhaled sharply as Sagawa let go. His body sagged as he tried to accustom himself to the dizzying sensation of his head hanging down, even if his legs were so long that they reached the floor on the other side.
"Good enough," Sagawa mused. "Maybe I'll ask you again later."
There was no further ceremony; the older man's hand lifted and came back down shockingly hard against the seat of his tuxedo trousers. Majima bit his lip, unwilling to make the slightest sound to embarrass himself further. One shaking hand gripped against the leg of the couch for support as he steeled himself for however long this would take.
If he was lucky, Sagawa would grow bored with his lack of reaction. It meant he might try another tactic, but anything would be better than this. The older man was slamming his hand down fast and hard, surprising Majima with the heat of the burn that was quickly spreading over his entire ass. It almost made him try to twist away, an action he knew would be punished even more severely.
"I can keep you here as long as I need to, buddy." Majima could still hear the words cutting through the ringing slaps, and his fingers squeezed around the couch leg tighter. "And I'll continue until I get some actual remorse out of you, so don't think the stoic act is about to do you any favors."
Trying to regulate his breathing and keep what control of the situation he could, Majima shut his eye tightly and tuned it all out. The sound of Sagawa's voice and of the brisk, repetitive slaps. The stinging and burning, the uncomfortable pressure against his stomach, and the lightness in his head. He could go elsewhere in his imagination like he used to do in the hole when he didn't know how to cope any longer.
When his head was jerked back a second time, however, the added sensation brought him back to reality.
"This isn't enough, I guess." Sagawa's voice was measured and far too calm. "Get up and open the desk drawer. You'll find something in the back. Bring it to me."
Majima was dumped off his lap in a startlingly sudden motion, and he automatically rolled, jumping to his feet with an agitated glare at Sagawa. His tuxedo was rumpled and his ponytail was loose, straggling over his shoulder in a limp trail of hair. He kept silent, half seething and half simply mortified.
"You heard me. Go get it. You're making this take longer than it needs to and I'll just get madder. Maybe you want that?"
Moving stiffly, Majima walked to the desk and yanked the drawer open. Behind all the folders and papers, there was a dark object barely visible that he reached for, not even imagining what it was.
It seemed to have a handle, which his grip naturally found as he pulled it out, his stomach dropping when the object came into full view. He might not be well versed in certain scenes, but he knew a paddle when he saw one.
While beautifully carved out of pale wood and perfectly flat and smooth, any aesthetic appeal it might have was somewhat lost on him at the moment. The width and length of it were both greater than his own hand by several inches, but it was thinner than he might have expected an item like this to be.
The muscles in his arm strained as he held the paddle tight in his fist and turned to Sagawa; if he knew he could get away with knocking the old man over the head with it to make an escape, he would have tried. "Really? You are a sick old perv, huh?"
Sagawa held his hand out imperiously. "More like an investor in objects of pain. And just for that snotty remark, you're going to beg me again. Go on. Kneel beside me and ask me to paddle your ass until you can't sit down."
The words felt different this time. Majima shifted uncomfortably, his tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. "I can't-"
"You're going to."
He closed his eye for a moment, breathing deeply. When he opened it again, he didn't look at Sagawa, only moved to his side and knelt out of instinct, holding the paddle up to him.
"Please, sir. I'm sorry. Please spank me until... until I learn my lesson. Please, Sagawa-han."
"Look at me, Majima-chan."
His eye crept upward, meeting Sagawa's heavy-lidded gaze. There was a dark light within it that made his stomach clench with anxiety.
"Good. Get back over my lap. You can even leave your trousers on. I'm very kind to you, aren't I, tiger?"
He wanted to say no, of course not. Instead, he obeyed, standing up slowly and folding himself over Sagawa's thighs, his right hand returning to its semi-comforting hold on the couch leg.
The paddle pressing against his ass was more intimidating than he'd imagined. It was bigger than Sagawa's hand and felt much more solid. "I think this is going to teach you a lot, actually," he murmured, rubbing the wooden surface over the seat of his pants in a way that felt much too intimate. Another odd sensation curled through Majima's belly, but there wasn't time to think about it.
There was no warming up; then again, his ass was already fairly heated. The paddle cracked against the lower half of Majima's backside and he jolted forward, almost releasing a yelp that he managed to turn into a strangled gasp instead.
Holding the paddle where it had struck, Sagawa chuckled. "Ohh. We're getting somewhere, now."
His hand rose and fell rapidly. It was all Majima could do not to yell and swear as he began to feel as though his ass was literally ablaze with fire. This was much worse than he could have imagined, and he could no longer focus. His right hand held the couch leg in a death grip, but his left began aimlessly groping around on the carpeted floor as if seeking some form of additional comfort. It was a burning, scalding heat, and he was reminded of the hole again, but it was also completely different.
What felt like a hundred strikes later but was more than likely closer to thirty, Sagawa mercifully stopped. The paddle rubbed over Majima's ass again, and the pathetic sound that escaped the back of his throat made him shudder with embarrassment.
"The next time I need to do this," Sagawa said quietly, "I'm going to make sure it's where others can hear. You think I'm bluffing, probably. But try me. How would you feel if one of the girls heard this? Or even saw it? One of your patrons?" He leaned down, speaking directly into Majima's ear. "The Grand's new manager is a childish failure who lacks discipline, poise, and grace. Thank goodness he has someone to beat those traits into his sorry ass."
Majima shook his head. It was definitely a bluff. Yet the words were not completely disgusting to him, and that odd wriggling sensation he couldn't understand was back. Someone seeing or hearing him like this, specifically...
The paddle came down unexpectedly, and Majima shrieked, his right foot lifting up and kicking back down against the floor as he tried to process the sensation. It hurt so bad that his eye brimmed with unshed tears. There was definitely a satisfied smugness to Sagawa's voice when he spoke afterward.
"So you need a little more. That's fine. Get up."
His whole body shaking, Majima shifted himself back onto his feet, though he nearly fell while trying to shuffle backward out of Sagawa's path. His ass burned, but that wasn't close to the only thing that had left his mind whirling with confusion and, oddly, a certain amount of fear.
"Trousers and underwear off, Majima-chan." Almost entirely focused on his inner thoughts, he barely heard the command but fumbled to comply once it processed, not knowing where this sudden eagerness to return to pain was coming from. Once his lower half was bare, a chill wracked new shivers from his body, even if he should have been burning up.
"Now. Kneel on the footstool. No, don't bend. On your knees. Back straight, hands behind your head."
It was an awkward position. The footstool wasn't meant to be knelt on, and it was barely wide enough for him to keep a comfortable distance between his legs. The hard leather dug into his knees, and he swayed dangerously as he moved his arms up, interlacing the fingers of both hands together behind his head. But he stayed in place, squeezing his eye shut until he heard a sound behind him that made him turn his head.
Sagawa was looking at him, but his hands were busy unbuckling the belt from around his waist and pulling it free. The clink of the metal prong against the frame, the hiss of the belt through the fabric loops, and the distinct snap of leather as it was folded in half all seemed to echo strangely in Majima's ears. That feeling was back, and he was starting to recognize it for what it was.
"But, sir, I thought you said-"
"You've been more stubborn than I imagined, Majima-chan," Sagawa broke in sternly. "Maybe if you'd tried harder, obeyed me faster, I wouldn't have to whip your pathetic ass like this."
"No! Sagawa-han, please-"
"Be quiet. I've heard enough whining. Twenty more, I think, then I feel sure we won't need to repeat this discussion ever again."
Majima shook his head, but the sudden rasp of his own harsh breathing filled his ears so loudly that he didn't hear the sound of Sagawa pulling the belt back, only the fierce crack that rang out when it landed without warning against his upper thighs.
He almost toppled off the footstool. He almost shrieked with the agony of the hot burning stripe that blossomed over his skin, crossing both thighs and nearly wrapping to the other side of his leg. Yet while he didn't, there was no guarantee how much longer he'd last like this.
Certainly not through nineteen more.
The belt swung forward and back, snapping sharply over his ass and thighs in random patterns. Majima couldn't count, could only bear each excruciating strike through clenched teeth and his eye screwed shut so tight that no tears could possibly escape. His body was swaying forward with every blow, and it was only when silence fell once more that he nearly sagged down in his position, trying to catch his breath.
A sudden whisper in his ear jolted through him as strongly as if he'd been struck again. "Why are you hard, Majima-chan?"
His eye shot open, and tears rapidly filled in beneath the lid as he looked down. Even through his blurred vision, there was no mistaking the fact that his cock was halfway erect, and it was even worse when he saw how it awkwardly bounced along with his shaking body.
"Oh, tiger," Sagawa sighed as though deeply disappointed. "Accuse me of being a pervert? When it was you all along? Have I awakened something in you that I shouldn't have?"
Tears of humiliation and shame finally began working their way down Majima's face. Several pooled at the corner of his mouth, and his tongue angrily swiped them away as though it could hide the evidence. It didn't help that Sagawa had moved closer to him and was watching it all with an expression of genuine enjoyment, making Majima's gut crawl with anger.
Despite that, he wanted nothing more than for Sagawa to touch him.
"You know what, I don't care," the older man said softly. "I think this makes it even better. I get to beat your ass, and your dick gets hard. I'm not here to help you out. So you're going to suffer even more."
Sagawa's breath was hot on Majima's neck. Feeling a sudden nudge against his cock, his eye darted down to see it was the belt, not Sagawa's hand. "Does this happen any other time I beat you? No? Not that I've noticed, anyway. You spent a year in the hole, and no one ever reported that your dick stood up when they broke your bones or burned your skin. I think they would have remembered that and talked about it. Everyone would know by now."
Majima knew better than to respond, even if he had begun to understand his earlier feelings. The next time he heard Sagawa's voice, it was behind him again. "That was only ten. So you have another ten. Try to hold it together, Majima-chan."
There wasn't time to think. The belt sliced through the air with a distinct whisper before it snapped across the middle of his ass, and he cried out in agony even while his cocked jumped with a strange excitement.
"Oh. What a shame," he heard Sagawa mumble, but anything else was lost as lash after searing lash landed over his naked flesh. Each strike came so fast and so hard that he couldn't distinguish between them, and by the end, agonized howls were pouring out between his sobbing and pleading, which seemed to be what Sagawa had been waiting for all along.
He didn't hear the belt drop to the floor or Sagawa telling him to stand up. When he was roughly grabbed by the arms and moved, he didn't resist. And he didn't question it when he found himself sitting on Sagawa's lap, his arms wrapped around the older man's neck as he continued to cry, his bruised and welted skin raw against the fabric of Sagawa's trousers.
"There, there. Oh, poor Majima-chan." The words were mocking, but he didn't notice. The shame, the pain, the arousal- there wasn't room for any more emotions or feelings. Sagawa rubbed his back gently as though he truly wanted Majima to feel better and didn't mind the mess of tears and snot forming against the collar of his shirt.
"You're going to obey me from now on, aren't you? You're going to do as you're told. You'll make my money and won't keep messing up, or you'll find yourself back here again. You don't want that, do you, Majima-chan? Over my knee with your ass in the air? Hm?"
The words made him shudder as he hiccuped softly, tears continuing to pour out. Sagawa's fingers were drifting down to his ass, coming dangerously close to sliding between his cheeks and pressing inward. Majima knew he would get fucked later, whether with his consent or without, but it didn't make anything either better or worse.
Through it all, he hated how much he wanted this to happen again.